The Chalice of Doom
by Istani
Summary: Jack Sparrow is right back in the middle of another cursed adventure but this time he's up against something worse than a mere curse... COMPLETE!
1. Prologue

Prologue

The sun shines from a deep blue sky, painting the Caribbean in its unique colours.

Nowhere else does the Sea sparkle like liquid gemstones in all different shades of blue and green, so colourful colours you get dizzy looking at it.

There are Islands like pearls, surrounded with snow white beaches and crowned with the sensational green of tropic rainforest. Though resembling one another, each one was a world of its own and had a different story to tell

At sunset the sky's on fire, an overwhelming explosion of orangepinkgold and the sun sinks like a burning red drop of blood into the gold-glittering sea. The night falls rapidly, covering all in velvet darkness. No need to talk about the stars here, they are like diamonds on satin and so close that it seems you only have to stretch out your hands to catch them.

In the short moment between day and night a ship appeared on western horizon, approaching with remarkable speed, silvery spray of sea splashing up a slender bow. It was a yard-rigged vessel under full sail and of so dark a colour that it nearly melted with the darkness as night fell.

A man came up the Companions way walking to the bow. He had a bird of prey's face with dark eyes that could scare naïve people to death if he was in a bad mood and some people even claimed that there was an aura about him, secretly making the sign against the evil eye when he passed by.

He was a well-groomed man with aristocratic manners, dressed in clean clothes of high-quality fabric but plain style. His grey hair was tied to a plait in his neck and his beard was neatly cut, as if he cared to maintain at least some sort of etiquette even though he was on board of a ship.

Reaching the bow he thoughtfully stared into the distance.

"Tortuga, de todos sitios en este mundo, eres la puta más grande. Se te desprecian por esto que eres, y sin embargo vuelven a regresar."

"What the hell are you about? Have we reached Tortuga?" a muffed voice came from the jib's net.

The man looked down to see a pair of sleepy green eyes facing him.

"Oh Captain, please, is there ever the slightest chance that you will be sleep in your bed like normal people do?" he asked, sounding like a father teasing his child. "Besides, your Spanish didn't seem to have improved. I said, _Tortuga, of all places in this world you're the greatest whore. One may despise you for what you are and yet keep on returning_."

"Ah. Doesn't make much more sense to me than sleepin' in a bed though. This place is as good for me as my crew's hammocks are to them, and besides, I do sleep in bed from time to time, Santiago. When I've found meself a pleasin' company for instance... " There was a tremulous shake in the jib's net and a tousled head appeared, searching the horizon. "Hardly to see anything of Tortuga."

"Just wait a little an the crow's nest's watch will report. Plenty of time to have a breakfast." Santiago replied, shaking his head about the things the Captain had said. In faked despair he raised his eyes to the sky. "Why have I even bothered to construct a vessel with nice cabins when there seems to be no need for them?"

"To prove that yer the greatest shipwright ever, blessed with the most gifted abilities, a genius in yer craft and- did ye say something 'bout breakfast? Do we still have this lovely first flush Darjeeling we got from capturing that little Indian vessel, the Banghalpur?"

"We do have. I presume you are telling me that you'd like some tea for breakfast, Captain. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Not at the moment, thanks mate. You'll find me at the helm. Can't resist navigating my own ship into Tortuga port." It was the same moment the words 'Land ahoy' were shouted from the crow's nest when the Captain shot a broad grin to Santiago. "So, here we go now."

The dark ship approached Tortuga with full-braced sails, then changed course a little to around the stony shores of an island that seemed to be full of rocks and a few lofty trees that grew upon them. But coming closer you could also see that there were some plantations growing tobacco and at least two towns. No one has ever bothered with the names, since you only have to say _'Tortuga' _and everybody knew, but the town with the most infamous, terrifying for some and glorious to others, disreputable, lawless harbour of the Caribbean was actually called Cayona.

Ships of all seize lay at anchor, but most of them were fishing boats or one-masted vessels. Only one ship had three masts, it was a dark galleon with black sails, properly coiled to the yards.

The Captain let the helm to a blonde tousle-head and headed to the starboard side to have a better look at the galleon. It had a winged figurehead with a small run-away bird in her hands.

"Bloody hell, that's the Pearl, isn't it?"

"Aye. The Black Pearl. Finally!" Santiago said with mixed emotions and eyes as dark as charcoal, hiding his feelings completely.

"Hum..." The Captain seemed to be... well, a little bit disillusioned. "That one's supposed to be the fastest pirate-ship in the Caribbean-sea? Don't know... I've expected her to be a little more... streamlined- is that the right word? She looks like a bulky old lady."

"Don't be disrespectful. And don't let Captain Jack Sparrow hear that, will you?"

"Well, well, better not annoy the guy who sent Barbossa into well-deserved hell, you're damn right, Santiago. Guess thanks would rather be in order, aye?"

Santiago didn't answer, so the Captain continued.

"Maybe I should go 'n have a look for him."

"Ha, you just have to look for the filthiest hole to find him in the arms of the cheapest whore in town." the Spaniard snorted, but then shrugged his shoulders while looking at the Black Pearl again, talking to himself now. "Well, at least he manages to keep his ship tidy, so maybe there's a bit of brain in his stubborn head by now, though I doubt it. Some people never learn."

"Heard that! You sound like you know this Sparrow pretty well, never mentioned that."

"Some things better stay unmentioned, believe me. Try to mess with him and you'll loose."


	2. 1 Debauchery

**Disclaimer:** ok, we all know that they're not mine... but it's after dark now and Disneyland is closed...

**Author's note**:this is my first story in English so please have mercy on me

1- **Debauchery**

Captain Jack Sparrow sat in one of Tortuga's typical drinking holes, a nameless filthy place like all of them were. Places where rum runs like water and company for one night was cheap. Men swallowing their drinks like there's no tomorrow, swearing their worst curses, chasing the whores, looking for a quarrel. When he came here ten days ago Tortuga seemed like the paradise on earth to him, but nothing lasts forever and glory always faded with time. Today the chicks looked old and worn-out and even the rum tasted somehow stale. _Drink up me hearties yo ho- _no use wasting it though.

While his crew still seemed to be hooked on all night long excesses of debauchery, he suddenly felt completely bored to death with it. He spotted Cotton making another attempt to charm a heavily decorated slut but failing again due to a missing tongue and a parrot on his shoulder croaking '_wind in yer sails, wind in yer sails'_. Not very helpful. A smile flickered up on his face, but only a little and his dark eyes remained untouched. After all it was just the same old game repeated endlessly evening by evening and for all times to come. He needed a change and to start with he changed Cottons fortune by handing his adored lady a couple of shillings, telling her to do what she did best. Her attitude changed immediately. She offered Cotton her arm and off they went. Time to go.

He left the filthy hole of what was supposed to be a tavern and entered the streets of Tortuga. Not much of a change. Just more drunks drowning in bottles and grime, fighting, shooting, chasing the whores, lying in the gutter. With the heat of the day still hanging over the city this place smelled like hell, a mixture of human excrement, booze, vomit, sweat and a swell of dead fish from the harbour. He went to the docks for a lungful of fresh air.

His heart lightened when he saw his ship, his beautiful Black Pearl shimmering dark in the moonlight like covered in silk, tiny silvery waves caressing her hull ...

"Tomorrow, luv..."

It sounded like a promise that he actually didn't intend to speak out lout but he must have done so 'course a couple of drunken scallywags turned to him puzzled as if he'd gone mad. Well, that's what most people thought of Captain Jack Sparrow anyway and he couldn't have cared less.

It was then when he saw something that puzzled him and made him think that there really must've been something odd with the rum tonight even though he didn't feel that drunk. He took a second look and came to the conclusion that he wasn't seeing double, the Pearl didn't have a twin sister. It might have been the colour that troubled his eyes on first look, as the 'twin' was also dark as night and had three masts. But no other dark three-master could match his Pearl and this one certainly lacked her majestic sublimity. This one was of a slimmer shape, slightly different rigging, had a lower afterdeck and a more slender bow with a strange winged-mermaid-chasing-a-star figurehead. Jewel Star. He'd never seen or heard of her before though there was something about her that seemed somehow... familiar to him. A fleeting memory from long ago flew through his head but he couldn't catch it and then it was gone, forgotten again.

The small lane went upwards a little, away from the harbour to the green hills of Tortuga. The noise of debauchery faded in the distance behind him, when he moved on to a maze of alleys full of corners. This was the older part of Tortuga with houses actually build of stone and not of driftwood, more solid ones. The 'better' part of Tortuga- if there's any on an island inhabited by buccaneers and pirates, whores and smugglers and everyone else who sought seek refuge from the law of the English, Spanish or French Crown.

He didn't know why he came here since it had been years since he'd been here but somehow it just felt right. At least the air was fresher, a salty breeze from the sea swept by, jingling with the pearls 'n silver in his tangled hair.

The alley was cobble-stoned .He heard the echo of his own footsteps in this canyon of crooked houses; standing so tightly he could rarely see the sky above. Suddenly he felt uncomfortably as if being watched, followed. There'd been the sound of other footsteps following his. _Now come on Jack don't make a fuss 'bout that, you're in a town an' there live people and_... He couldn't help, he had to stop and listen.

Clack. Clack. Silence.

So there was obliviously a follower 'cause whoever was behind him has paused as well. He glared over his shoulder, no one in sight. Frowning he continued to walk as did his unseen follower, but then he quickly huddled in the shadows of a doorway, one hand on the hold of his sword. Cautiously he glanced round the corner to see an empty alley, lanterns reflecting some raindrops on the cobblestones.

He waited a couple of minutes without anything happening but the rain getting stronger. Now he felt like a fool in need of more rum to stop him from hearing ghosts. Must have been some long forgotten memories from long ago hunting him, he thought sighing when his eyes fell on an old, battered door-sign of a tavern. The _prancing dragon_. Without hesitation he entered the small tavern feeling sent back in time. Nothing had changed...

...and that meant forgetting that bloody little step again. He stumbled and crushed into a group of what seemed to be some better-dressed pirates. One of them- their captain probably since he wore a dark coat and a big hat- turned to him angrily.

"Don't ye ever dare 'n spill me drink again, ragged fool."

Jacks eyes widened and he was rendered speechless. Not a common occurrence for Captain Jack Sparrow. But where other pirates show a hairy breast and maybe a tattoo or two under their shirt, he now saw unmistakable female curves in a tight corsage. A green one. Without taking his eyes off that décolleté, he lifted his hat and pretended a bow.

"Hello, luv. Captain Jack Sparrow 'ere to serve ye."

"Well, well, you've kindly realized that I've got breasts, that'll do for service." she said with an ironic smile, eyes like the deepest ocean fixing him to the spot.

"'t was a pleasure, luv." He smiled shamelessly back to her, golden teeth glittering in the candlelight, but she was already about to turn away from him, and he didn't want her to turn away. "Apologies for spilling your drink by the way- may I buy you another one?"

"How charming, Captain Sparrow. I've no objection- if stop calling me luv or other stupid things. My name's Rowan Scarlett, Captain of the Jewel Star and that makes it Captain Scarlett for you, aye." She copied his affected behaviour, took her hat off...

... and was covered in flames down to her shoulders. Jack gasped. For the second time within minutes he went speechless. He'd never seen something like this before. Red. It was red, not this typical red-golden Irish colour, only...RED.

"Wine." he mumbled. She handed him helpfully a mug, totally misunderstanding what he was about, but he couldn't think of any better description. Once he had drunken an expensive red wine from an even more expensive crystal glass and when he'd held it up to the light of a candle it had been exactly the same colour .

"So... _Rowan_... that's an ol' Gaelic name meaning red one, aye? And the _Scarlett_ 's for nobody ever missing that point?"

She laughed at him, eyes suddenly as green as a calm bay in sunshine. "You're a funny guy, Captain Sparrow. Now, how 'bout that drink you've promised? I'd have another red wine."

"You're sure 'bout that?" he asked with risen eyebrows, then flashing her a cheeky smile. "All that wine's no good for ye, luv. See what 't 's done to yer hair."

Jack lifted a hand to brush a wisp of hair out of her face but she was faster, getting a tight grip on his arm and pushing him right back.

"I allowed you to buy me a drink, not to paw me with yer dirty fingers. You should take a bath from time to time."

"If I would, would ye let me...?"

Her eyes became narrow and of a colour the sea had before a storm broke, strange eyes indeed. It was enough to make him fall silent for a moment, more effective than Anamaria's face slapping had ever been. He raised his hands in a sign of peace, then smiling broadly at her.

"Welcome to the Caribbean, **Captain** Scarlett."

Jack left her in a state of surprise, went swaying to the bar and came back with two big mugs, handing one to her.

"Now, that is seems we're the same biz you'd better start getting used to rum, as all the pirates 'ere do, supposed yer a pirate as I've never heard neither of you or your ship. Are ye comin' from some strange fairy country, luv? "

She rolled her eyes in despair and couldn't help to start laughing. This guy was completely mad but as long as he'd keep his fingers off her he'd be a funny companion for one night of drinking.

"Well, I've been born in Spain and raised in Tortuga- if you wanna call these fairy countries, do as you please..."

"**That** hair is Spanish?"

"No, **that** was a strange little accident when I fell into a barrel of wine here in Tortuga while still a child."

He stared at her in disbelief, needing a moment to realize that she was only spinning a yarn.

"And why have I never heard of you before?"

"'cause I've been to Asia, sailing the Chinese-Seas. Shanghai, Saigon, Singapore..."

"You've been to Singapore! I **love **Singapore! Let's have a toast on Singapore!"

Jack clinked mugs with her and swallowed the rum like water, before ordering a bottle from the bartender. This night seemed to have improved. The rum tasted better than ever and the company couldn't have been more exiting. He glanced carefully to the Redhead, surveying her from top to toe.

She had Caribbean skin, peacock eyes, red-wine-hair and a fallen angel's smile. She was dressed in man's clothes. Coat 'n Shirt 'n Trousers 'n knee-high boots, all in black but for this corsage she wore under her shirt, which was actually green and surely not a man's clothes- except the man was an eunuch or perverted... _that's another story, Jack, and don't stare at 'er bodice too long if ye don't wanna make 'er furious again 'cause there's not **that** much to stare anyway_... She wasn't a common beauty and certainly not the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, in fact she wasn't even a girl anymore but a grown-up woman who seemed to know exactly what she wants. The pistols and the cutlass in her belt were not for decoration, she looked like she knew how to use them, and yet there was some freshness around her that reminded him of sea spray.

"Are you done with your inspection, Captain Sparrow? Have I passed the test?" she snapped at him.

"No need to worry 'bout, luv, ev'rything's perfect." He gave her a charming smile but didn't get the same from her, only eyes turning a bit stormy again.

"Well, I should be worried as it's you saying that. I'm wondering why you're here anyway, 'cause I've been told I'd find you in the filthiest bar of Tortuga an' in the arms of the cheapest slut around..."

"Who said that?"

"A friend."

"Seems you've strange friends, luv..."

"Don't call me luv! For you it's still Captain Scarlett. Just try an' show me the same respect I show you, Captain Sparrow, aye?" she hissed.

He decided to ignore her rising fury and kept on smiling.

"Forgive me, **Captain** **Scarlett**, for that's an ol' manner o' me I just can't change. But anyway, I'm pleased to hear that you've kinda heard of me and that ye respect me- wonder what reason that might be for?"

"Barbossa." Scarlett uttered with a voice that had become ice-cold with hatred. She had to clear her throat before she was able to continue. "Of all the stories 'bout you I prefer that one. Thanks for deliverin' this world from that bloody evil piece o' shit called Barbossa- though I'd have loved to have done it meself."

"Oh." Jack raised his eyebrows. He was still smiling at her, but his eyes had gone blank, watching her a bit cautiously. Then he shrugged his shoulders and was back to 'normal', lips curled up in a suggestive grin. "Well, if thanks are in order, why not give me a little kiss, luv?"

She sighed. "If you really want a whore's kiss you'll get it, but don't expect any emotions."

"No, no, no. Stop. Please." He still wanted to kiss her, but what he wanted was a **real** kiss with green calm-bay-in-sunshine eyes, and not a storm-clouded one that she would only give to him cause he'd killed someone she'd hated so much that she was now willing to endure... _no good, Jack._

Scarlett gave him an astonished look. "What's wrong with you now? A minute ago you've pressed me to kiss you and now you've changed you're mind?"

"That's got nothing to do with not wanting a kiss, only with the pressing. I can wait for the opportune moment."

"And if that never comes?"

"Hey, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow!"

Scarlett filled her mug with more rum, drank a little and smiled at him.

"Now, infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, I've head rumours 'bout ye sendin' Barbossa into well-deserved hell, but we both know that rumours 're spreading faster than ye can tell 'em, aye. So, will ye tell me the truth behind 'em."

"You want the whole story? Well, it all started when I reached Port Royal in a sinking boat that I've borrowed without permission from Anamaria but with best intents in giving it back and that's why I still owe her a boat..."

What a storyteller. He prated and flirted, boasted and cheated. He was a charmer and a phoney, never telling the truth without ever lying. He was the King of the thieves, Lord of half-truths and Master of big gestures, always a smile on his face. He was Captain Jack Sparrow, legend of the Caribbean- the man who sacked Nassau port without firing a single shot, who vanished from under the eyes of seven agents of the East India Trading Company, and who even took Barbossa in with his a tricks. He had scars to prove it all, and many more, but he did never reveal any of them, as well as he never revealed his real face to anybody. The one of Jack Sparrow without the Captain, the man behind the legends. That part of himself he kept well hidden behind dark brown eyes, deep as the ocean. Must have been a heard learned lesson for him.


	3. 2 Captured

**2- captured **

"Turn that bloody light off." An annoyed growl came from the pile of pillows on the bed, some fiery stands of red hair tossed and turned before hiding deeply under the sheets again.

"It's the sun shining in your cabin, Captain, and I'm afraid that I can't stop it doing so." a mocking voice answered.

There was a disturbing rattle when Santiago put a tray with a pot of tea and a mug next to her bed, forcing Rowan to open an eye. She tried to rise her head a little but the world seemed quite dizzy this morning, letting her moan.

"Good Lord, what have you been doing last night?"

"Meetin' a queer bird called Sparrow 'n had a few mugs o' rum with 'im."

"Ah." Santiago nodded his head in comprehension before mumbling to himself. "So I should be glad to see my little girl alone in her own bed ..."

"If ye want to refer to his mistaken believing that he's the most irresistible guy who ever walked this earth I can assure you that I've found it quite easy to resist. Told him to have a bath before even starting to think of pawing me with his dirty fingers again... Besides, I hate it when you call me _my little girl_- we both know that I'm not."

The Spaniard ignored her last comment, concentrating on something else she'd said. "So he **did **try to paw you, aye? No wonder- I've told you that he's a ne'er-do-well, remember? He's just taking advantage of any situation and I can only repeat myself that I'm glad you're save aboard your own ship, as the Black Pearl's left Tortuga with ebb tide."

"Santiago, I'm not an innocent virgin anymore so please don't wince at the thought of someone touching me. It's up to me to decide whether I want it or not. I'll never be the trophy in someone's collection, as I'd rather prefer collecting my own trophies, savvy?" she hissed, had a sip of tea and cuddled back to bed again, recalling last night. There had been an episode she didn't liked at all, one that actually worried her.

_"Shouldn't walk home alone, luv." he had said when she was just leaving. "Tortuga's much too dangerous at night."_

_She had laughed at him, but allowed him to accompany her to the docks, amused of the fact that no one of her crew had ever considered it being **too dangerous for her** to walk Tortuga by night. They had left a long time ago, doing things men usually do after a long voyage, knowing her perfectly safe as they exactly knew how she could handle her weapons. After all, she was Captain Rowan Scarlett._

_It was cold outside, colder than Caribbean nights usually are. It had rained and there was fog creeping up to the hills like ghostly fingers without contours, but they ignored this at first as it was difficult enough for two drunks to walk slippery wet alleys of cobblestones down to the harbour. It ended up in a stumbling, sliding, gasping for hold and giggling mess with Jack trying to take advantage of the situation and kiss her. At that instant she nearly wanted it too but it was only a brief moment soon gone by. _Get a grip on yourself, Rowan_. She gently pushed him away when she realised the somehow spooky atmosphere. The wafting fog patches had grown heavier, absorbing sounds to distant echoes. Tortuga had become almost quiet. Yet she'd thought she'd heard the sound of footsteps following them and stopping when they've stopped. _

_When they went on it was like they've suddenly became sober again and their cheerful giggles died in a wary mood, both keeping their ears open. They didn't talk about it- _would the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow ever mention hearing footsteps in a town crowded with lawless scallywags and miscreants?_- but they both remained in cautious suspense until they've reached to docks where Jack made a final stupid attempt to lay her._

_"Wouldn't ye fancy coming aboard the Pearl, Captain Scarlett? She's the fastest 'n prettiest ship in the Caribbean, you know, and you surely won't miss the chance that I'll show ye 'round, aye?" _Youbloody prattler just intent to show me yer cabin- d' ye think I'm too foolish to get it_? she thought annoyed when all of a sudden she heard these footsteps again, this time much closer than ever before. _

_"Sounds irresistible, cutie." she said, faking to embrace him but only in need of his shoulder to lean on, as she whirled around on one foot, kicking the other strongly into something... solid. She heard a wailing howl and within seconds she was armed with a sword in one hand and a pistol in the other, facing their follower who had whiningly crumbled down next to Jack's feet, actually even kissing the hem of his coat._

"Captain, please. Good Captain. Don't let her harm poor Ratbone. Please sire. Ratbone's done no wrong, just looking for Captain, good Captain."

_"Stop!" Jack waggled his arms dramatically to stop her from any additional attacks, asking her to lower her weapons because poor little Ratbone was scared to death, while he himself seemed to be rather flabbergasted because he hadn't expected her to be so outright vigorous._

_"You know this... **creature**?" she gasped, looking down at the hunchbacked bootlicking being crawling next to Jacks feet, a hypocrite worming his way into Jacks confidence. And the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow was flattered by his worship that he apparently suffered from a lack of brains. Couldn't he see that this worship was as fake as everything about Ratbone? It sent a shiver down her spine when he told her that this little freak was actually part of his crew._

_"Come, good Captain. Set Sails, my dear Captain. Don't waste time with red-haired evil witch. Remember ships. Fine ships, pretty ships, they not wait for you, Captain. Come..."_

_Jack silenced him with a gesture before flashing her a cheeky grin, glancing invitingly from her to the Black Pearl and back again. She just shook her head._

_"So I'm off, Captain Scarlett. Have to go 'n pay me debts, still owin' Anamaria a suitable ship. But don't worry, luv, I'll take a bath and then I'll be back, promised. So gimme a couple of days and don't leave Tortuga, savvy?"_

Don't go, _she wanted to shout but he might have gotten that wrong and that's why she remained silent. After all, it was only __misgivings, a vague sense that there's something fishy about Ratbones manners. Nothing she could explain. _He's so unobtrusive in some way, dressed in grey rags that nearly melted with the fog, so mice-faced and you should pity him for being a mentally retarded hunchback_- but maybe that's just it what had troubled her right from the start. No one could ever be as unobtrusive as this creature. She should have warned Jack but then again he would have misinterpreted that, thinking she worried about him, cared for him, fell for him...so she just said goodbye and left..._

...left him with an uneasy feeling that still hadn't disappeared by now, though the sun was shining into her cabin to chase away all kinds of shadows.

"So nothing has changed." Santiago claimed after hearing her story. He sighed. "Jack's still an ill-fated fascination with scum that'll only get him in trouble but he refuses to learn anything from it. If something happens to him it's his own entire fault- never yours, Rowan. You're never to blame so don't worry about..."

"Ye tell me not to worry when it's obvious that yer hiding something from me? Bloody hell, why don't ye tell me what you've got to do with Captain Jack Sparrow as you apparently seem to know him quite well? Why do you detest him that much?"

"Well, you've met him."

"Come on, he might be a womanizer, a boaster, and a clown. He might be full of himself, never know when to stop but you just have to draw the reins and he falls right off. All in all he's not that bad, a funny guy to spend a night o' drinkin' with- and he's killed bloody Barbossa. So tell me, what's wrong with you and Sparrow?"

"Not now." he said, sounding like he'd rather meant _never at all_, then leaving the cabin.

Scarlett sighed. No use to trouble him when he was in one of his mood but she was willing to find out. Maybe Jack would cast some light on that matter when returning to Tortuga as he'd promised. But the days went by without his return and Santiago was as close as a sealed book when it came to that point. Finally she came to the conclusion that the Spaniard might have been right and that Captain Jack Sparrow really was a ne'er-do-well, always showing a golden smile and speaking with silvery tongue but never meaning anything he'd said. Well, that shouldn't have bothered her as much as it actually did. In fact she was incredibly pissed off. She was angry at Santiago for being once more right and angry at Jack for just being himself, but most of all she was angry at herself for believing in his silver-tongued words. For being foolish enough to be nearly taken in by him, when she should have been clever enough to know that he probably had a willing doxie in every harbour of the Caribbean, and she surely didn't be one of them. And though there'd never been a single moment she'd ever wasted a single thought giving in to his charms, she was annoyed that she hadn't been able to make more impression on him- without ever wanting to impress him. So for some reason she felt hurt in her pride.

-

On the fourth day Captain Rowan Scarlett barked commandos to weigh the anchor and set sails. Time-off in Tortuga was over as planned, so there was no use in wasting any more time.

The Jewel Star got going with the tide. It was good to hear the wind filling the flapping sails again, to feel the hull working though the sea and the trembling planks under her bare feet, her hands firmly at the helm. They were just gaining speed and leaving the harbour, when they nearly collided with an incoming vessel.

Scarlett changed the course immediately, turned the helm with full force and her first mate's assistance to starboards side and thus managed to avoid a crash just in time. Nevertheless there was the sound of splintering wood to be heard that made them both curse violently.

"Bloody hell! Have they never learned how to navigate or what are they up to?" she yelled, when her first mate,Marris, called her attention to the black bow that had just torn parts of their rail to pieces. She recognised the figurehead- it was the Black Pearl.

"Sparrow, you damned Bastard! Now, is that your interpretation of a kiss, or what?"

There was a squeaking creak of brushing wood when the two ships scraped past one another, and it was only now when Scarlett realized that the Black Pearl was badly damaged. The mizzen mast was broken off, most sails were torn, flapping useless in the wind, and the rigging was tattered. She was hardly manoeuvrable any more, and the crew seemed desperate enough to make a foolish and miserably planned attempt to board the Jewel.

"All hands on deck!" Scarlett shouted furiously before jumping on the rail to have a closer look. Now where was the bloody Captain of that bunch of scoundrels? She couldn't spot him but she saw that many of his men were wounded. She took a brace and turned to her crew. "Thrust 'em back but don't open fire yet."

"Payin' them a little visit, Captain?" Marris hurried at to her side. "Won't let ye have this fun without me. Let's go!"

They set off to board the Pearl, swung through the air and landed on deck. There where stains of blood sprawled all over, the remains of a battle. Now Scarlett began to feel nervous about still not seeing anything of Jack Sparrow, and though she hated the thought of her worrying about him she couldn't help either. He wasn't aboard the Black Pearl, that she knew from the instant her feet had touched the planks- his absence was somehow... perceptible.

In the meantime her crew had thrust back the opposing one when one member of the Pearl caught sight of Santiago and lowered his weapon in relief.

"Don Miguel! Heaven sent you! Please help us! They've taken Jack- I mean Captain Sparrow- and we need a ship to get to Port Royal and rescue him."

"Well, Mr. Gibbs, when you're in need of help and a ship, why don't you ask for it in a more politely manner?" the Spaniard answered in a mockery tone.

"I'm awfully sorry, Don Miguel, didn't knew it was you to be in command of this ship."

_Now, is there anyone in this whole bloody word Santiago **didn't **know?_ Scarlett mused when she saw her mentor coming aboard the Black Pearl; shaking hands with the man he had called Mr. Gibbs. She pushed forward not to miss a word they're talking about.

"... 't was one of Jack's plans. We're about to commandeer one of this new Royal Navy's ships Commodore Norrington 's ordered from England as they're on their way to Port Royal. We're supposed to lie in ambush near the Caicos-islands 'n wait for the opportune moment, but instead of us lying in ambush we got caught in a trap as there's a huge galleon waiting for us. 't was all grey from hull to masts 'n sails, at least seven decks at astern 'n about two-hundred canons, I swear. We gave 'em a battle- then all of a sudden Jack fell overboard 'n we couldn't do anything but watch Norringtons men fishing him out to take him to Port Royal 'n to the gallows. We couldn't follow them with a ship that's merely a wreck; we can be lucky that we finally got here, carried by the current. It's a fortune to meet you, Don Miguel."

"What's all this drivellin' 'bout? We need a ship- there's a ship. No need to make a fuss 'bout, Gibbs." a dark-haired woman hissed, hastily holding her cutlass to Santiago's throat. But soon enough she froze, hearing the catch of a pistol that pointed to her head.

"Now, now! I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"Anamaria, please, we could use some help. Think of Jack." Gibbs begged, trying to calm down the tempered woman. Finally she let go of Santiago, turned around and faced Scarlett with a look that excluded they'd ever be friends.

"Well, thanks a lot." Rowan smirked, ignoring the jealous flash in the corner of the other woman's eyes, as she considered herself completely blameless. She hadn't done anything wrong.

While Gibbs started a heated debate with Anamaria, Scarlett used the opportunity to have a few words in private with Santiago.

"Well, I assume that you don't really have the intention to help them and rush to rescue Jack Sparrow from the gallows, aye?" she asked harsher than she wanted to sound.

"First, it's never good to go rushing into things, and secondly, though you might think I despise Jack Sparrow and maybe like to see him rot in some stinking cell, I most certainly don't wish to have him hanged from to the gallows." he informed her sternly before shrugging his shoulders. "But this is not up to me. The Jewel Star is your ship, Captain Scarlett, and you have to decide what **you **want to do."

She didn't have to think about it. "Change of course! We sail to Port Royal to free a queer bird!"

Gibbs stared at her in bewilderment, not really knowing what she was about.

"So you're going to help us?" he asked Santiago, smiled contentedly when the Spaniard nodded, and then frowned at Scarlett's sight. "But with all respect, Don Miguel, it's really bad luck havin' a woman aboard."

Santiago touched his throat and noticed a few drops of blood on his fingertips. Apparently lost in thoughts he examined them before shooting a glimpse to Anamaria, mumbling "Well, I guess I know what you mean." Then he straightened his shoulders and said with rigid voice. "Mr. Gibbs, if you are really looking for help you should better not offend the person who has offered you a helping hand, as it is Rowan Scarlett who is in command of the Jewel Star. She is the Captain."

Gibbs seemed stunned, and Anamaria was still raving silently when Santiago took Scarlett aside to have a few more personal words with her.

"Now, Rowan, are you really sure about that?" It was a rhetorical question, as he could already see some kind of thrilled thirst for adventure glowing in her eyes. Though this should've been concerning enough, he was just glad, that it was only her thirst for adventure leading her and nothing else, nothing stupidly emotional. He reduced the distance between them, gently pushing a strand of hair out off her face. "Promise me to be careful, will you? Do your best but don't risk your life for someone like Sparrow, as I want to have **you **back home again safe."

"Does this actually mean you're not coming with me?"

"It does. Isn't that what you've always wanted, Rowan? Doing things on your own without me fathering you? I'd rather take care of the Pearl instead; mending her damages and look after the wounded ones who really need my help. Besides, Jack would hate it to be rescued by me of all people..."

..._but please do go and rescue him_, his eyes said in contrary to everything else he'd ever said about Jack Sparrow before. Scarlett has never seen him so stirred, so mixed up with hidden emotions. She had believed that he'd hate Jack for some unknown reasons but actually he seemed to worry much more about him than he should have, and that seemed to annoy him the same time like being annoyed of himself for worrying too much. Somehow she could understand him...

She was just about to board to her own ship again when she realized that Gibbs followed her.

"So, what are you up to, mate?"

"I'm coming with ye."

"Why? I've got a crew already and I'm in no need of anyone else. Besides, it's bad luck havin' a woman aboard, aye?"

Gibbs blushed, feeling caught. "Well, I'm sorry 'bout that, Ma'am... um, **Captain** Scarlett. But you've to lemme come with you. It's that I still owe something to Jack."

She shrugged her shoulders, giving way as well as giving him a sharp look, when she heard Santiago saying, "Don't worry dear, he's coming back to you."

She turned around, wondering why he called a woman who had threatened him with a cutlass only minutes ago _dear_ but it was not Anamaria he was talking to, in fact there was no-one around; he just patted affectionately the dark rail of the Pearl.

Okay, it was really time to go- Santiago's started talking to ships.

-

It wasn't what Gibbs had expected a lady's cabin to be. The floor was covered with old carpets from Persia and the dark wood of the furniture was only lightened a little by a warm golden light that fell in from the stern window decorated with stained glass ornaments. There was a large shelf full of books on one side, some silver-fitted chests on the other, and a table with piles of nautical charts in the middle of the room. The 'treasures' of a pirate's career were spread everywhere in between like being placed by chance, though none of it looked really spectacular at first sight as nothing was flashy enough. Only one who knew could tell that these things collected mainly from Asian countries were rare antiques, like that Buddha statue in the corner next to the bed, guarding it. It could've been a man's cabin except for the bed that was placed underneath the window as it was dressed with lots of Indian pillows, the ones embroidered in silver or gold and these tiny mirrors on. But all in all in was quite comfortable. There weren't neither vases with flowers nor figurines, ruffles and laces, or any other sort of kitsch he'd thought women were usually fond of- and of course Captain Rowan Scarlett wasn't what he'd call a usual woman either.

He eyed her unobtrusive as she bend forward to study one of the most detailed nautical charts of the Caribbean he'd ever seen, pushing casually her hair back from her face. It was only now that he figured out what his captain was about speaking of a red-wine-mane. That it was indeed. And she really had strange eyes, colour changing eyes that made him feel somehow uneasy. If it was bad luck having a woman aboard than it might be three times worth with her. He made a secret sign to avoid evil before explaining once again what's happened at the Caicos.

She listened attentively, concentrating on the map and letting her fingers run over it, considering...

"Well, that'll mean they'd be two days ahead. If you're still sure right about the seize of this grey galleon, I'd say it won't be fast. They might reach Port Royal this evening but we're catching up, gonna be there tomorrow morning."

"That's impossible. Maybe the Pearl 'd manage this distance in this time as she's the fastest ship in the Caribbean but you'd have to make at least fourteen knots..."

"Now, with that fresh wind springing up from astern we probably make even fifteen knots. So there's nothing to worry about, Mr. Gibbs. We'll reach Port Royal with plenty of time left to release Captain Jack Sparrow from jail as the hanging won't be before Sunday."

"Sunday?" He looked at her as if she'd gone mad, didn't believe the Jewel Star to make fifteen knots and just marvelling about everything else. "Why Sunday?"

"'cause executions usually take place Sundays after mass to make people believe that it's Gods will to assassinate a man by another who's getting paid for and with a cheering audience around. Very impressive. Very advantageous for almighty rulers oppressing less advantaged people in order of strict obedience to what they call God-given law."

Gibbs opened his mouth as if wanting to say something but then changed his mind. He wanted this conversation to be over, still feeling very uncomfortable in her presence. It was a good relief for him when she gestured that he was released off duty, hurrying for the door.

"Ah, Mr. Gibbs- one last question..."

He frowned, turning round suspiciously. "Aye, Captain Scarlett?"

"Well, I remember you saying you still own Jack something, just wondering 'bout that."

"Now, um..." he looked uncertain, stepping from one foot to another, "...it was at that time'bout a year ago, when the curse was lifted. I mean... Jack **did** owe a ship to Anamaria, we had the Pearl, and there was the code to be considered. Anyone who falls behind is left behind..."

"Wait a moment- are you just telling me that you've left Jack behind sailing away on **his** ship, while the Dauntless was lying offshore the Isla de la Muerta in wait to get hold of every pirate, because there was a code to be considered?"

"Er, um..." He blushed like a little boy given a talking-to, and felt utterly embarrassed.

"Now, with friends like this you really don't need to worry 'bout foes, aye?" she growled disapprovingly.

"But we did come back for him, following the Dauntless to Port Royal, and Jack **did** escape in the end." he tried to defend himself but failed miserably. Scarlett's eyes turned storm-grey.

"Nothing you could ever be proud about, Mr. Gibbs, as it was young Will Turner who saved Jack Sparrow from the hangman's noose, and not you. Now, how do you sleep at night?" she said with a voice dangerously calm and in total control before getting lost in thought, sighing, "...and I really wonder how Jack does?"

_With a loaded pistol under his pillow, never fast asleep, _Gibbs thought, looking badly remorseful and crumbling something only he knows in his hands. Then he got courageously, rose his head to gaze at Scarlett.

"Aye, I've made mistakes, that's for sure but that's why I'm here. So how 'bout you, Captain Scarlett? What are you up to? Is there any profit for you sailin' to Port Royal 'n rescuin' Jack?"

"As I'm not the one who've ever left someone in need behind by considering a code instead of loyalty, I think this question is out of place, Mr. Gibbs. I don't seek a profit in rescuing someone from the gallows, the **rescue is** the profit for me. You can go now." she said stern.

Watching him leave Scarlett crossed her legs on the table and thought about it. She had told him only half of the truth or even less as she'd many reasons for this little trip. First of all was that she really loathed authorities from the bottom of her heart, may it be military, church or crown. Men who set up rules and won't entitle more rights to her than to be obedient and to obey a man expecting her to be like a devoted dog. Wuff! It was always a pleasure breaking these specific laws by stirring up long established social orders. Now, wouldn't it be an even greater pleasure to have the Royal Navy finding out that it was a pirate **lady** snatching Sparrow out of their hands? That surely was a really good reason. Another point was keeping an unspoken promise to Santiago and to prove him that she could damn well handle things on her own without him around fathering her. And of course the thrill of an adventure.

She rose, searching the pile of charts on her table for a special one and then unfolded a detailed map of Jamaica. Studying it, a plan began to take root, shaped and turned out to be a goody. A nasty flashed up on her face as she thought about how that would agree with Mr. Gibbs, and getting delight in pestering him a little she made her way to the helm. Now he'd see just how fast the Jewel Star can get with her commanding the ship. Showdown-time!

With the hands on the helm and the wind in her hair she finally had to admit that there was still another reason for all of that, and that was Captain Jack Sparrow himself. She'd liked to know what went wrong with him and Santiago plus she **might** have misjudged him. Being captured by the Royal Navy really **was** a reason for not coming back to Tortuga like he'd said and this meant that she had no reason being angry at him therefore. Only for getting her to start liking him at least that much that she couldn't stand the thought of him swinging at the gallows without having the chance of another teasing battle-of-words again. To cut it short- one reason certainly was that she liked that bloody scallywag.


	4. 3 the rescue: a few problems

**author's note**: I'm back from holiday with a new chapter. Thanks to my only reviewer so far

**ellenar**: thanks a lot for your review. It really means a lot to me as it was you who inspired me to write this. Even if no one else reads my story I'll go on as I have to (I didn't go on holiday with a two kilo weighting dictonary for no reason at all, aye?)

3. The rescue: a few problems

"You want me do to what?" Gibbs gasped.

The Jewel Star had anchored at a beautiful Jamaican bay with a river flowing into and now they stood on a beach at its mouth surrounded with nothing but jungle. Scarlett looked at Marris in a faked state of bewilderment.

"Ups, have I changed into Cantonese again?" She turned back to Gibbs, staring at him coldly. "Now, mate, which part of 'we'll take a walk through the jungle' you didn't understand?"

"Got it all." Gibbs reassured her without feeling any better. "But **why** to we have to walk through the jungle? Why don't we just..."

"...sail right into Port Royal and bomb the whole place into pieces?" Scarlett finished his sentence sardonically. "Ah, brilliant idea- but why not sending a letter to Commodore Norrington that we're about to free the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow?"

"Um..."

"Mr. Gibbs, you've wanted to come with us- it was neither that we've asked ye to nor that we ever wanted ye to. But as yer here with us now, I recommend that you'd better keep your mouth shut and do whatever I'll tell ye 'cause I know precisely what I'm up to, savvy." Her eyes were close to freezing point when they fixed his. "Should you therefore favour to stay aboard the Jewel- well, it's up to you. Luckily I've no reason to doubt my crew's loyalty as I know damned well that they'd never let ye sail away with me ship if I'd ever fall behind."

She continued to make her way without looking back, following a hidden path that lead straight into the jungle The dim twilight of trees that stood like a cathedral's colonnade crowned with a roof of green leaves high above soon swallowed her. But the jungle certainly lacked the reverent silence of a cathedral as there was a cacophony of different background voices, a permanent crackle, hustle and bustle of startled animals scurrying away in the undergrowth when they walked by. The never-ending rustle in the branches of squawking birds and irritated chattering monkeys accompanied them on their way to Port Royal, yet all drowning it was only the monotone orchestra of chirping cicadas.

After several hours of hard march through the jungle and most of the time walking up and down ranges of hills, they finally reached the top on a hill overlooking Port Royal. The sun was already sinking behind them. Resting for a moment Gibbs struggled for breath and enough courage to get something sorted out with Rowan Scarlett.

"One thing, Captain Scarlett, I'm not a mutineer, never was- and despite the fact that I'd kept to a code without considerin' the consequences for Jack, I've spent most of last year's time trying to make up to him as I really like me Captain. I've tried me best to keep away all these troubles he'd liked to run into by all means of his typical high-handedness, tried to change his crew from a bunch of scabby dogs into a hard working 'n loyal one to avoid him getting into more problems than he could arouse by just being himself- if you know what I mean."

"Guess I know." she had to admit with a smile, tapping his shoulders. "You're cute, Mr. Gibbs. Though you think I'm the personification of frightful bad luck you still want me to have a better opinion of you. How's that? Is it 'cause the skies won't haven fallen yet?"

"It's only for Jack, to save him." he mumbled but shook her hand when she offered it to him.

"Well, we're all here for the same reason, aren't we?"

-

The bell of St. Paul's rang ten times when Scarlett, Gibbs and Marris finally entered Port Royal after they'd spent some time at that hill waiting for the night to fall deeply over the town. Now it was almost quiet with a few distant noises occasionally drifting by from the harbour.

Suddenly they heard the harsh footsteps of soldiers on patrol and hid in the shadows of a large bougainvillea-bush to seek shelter. However, the soldiers just walked by chatting as if there wouldn't be any reason to be on the alert. Didn't they expect any escape attempt of their most infamous prisoner? Or did they just refuse to believe that any pirate would try to break Captain Jack Sparrow out of jail **by land**?

Rowan wondered about that, and she wondered even more when she saw a bill sticking on the walls of Fort Charles announcing next Sunday's executions. Jack's name was not in the list. _But why does Commodore Norrington keep a secret in capturing the most wanted fugitive of the Caribbean when he should be proud enough to boast about? _She didn't know.

They waited a while to be sure all was save before heading for the jail. Of course, they couldn't just walk in straight, passing the keeper and asking him politely for Jack but there was also no need to violent things as there always was a back entrance to everything. This special one to the jail was situated unguarded in an alley, just waiting for them to enter; so they did.

It was easy to find the dungeon, as they'd only have to follow the smell of soaked straw and unwashed bodies of people penned up in cells like cattle. And, there were many people imprisoned though only a few had committed serious crimes, most were just held for minor offences. Where laws were unjust, it was pretty easy to break them. Therefore, the atmosphere was as gloomy as it could be; torches threw fleeing shadows on the walls, painting it all in a dim twilight.

"Look for Sparrow, quick!" Scarlett ordered shocked while she went in search of keys. It probably won't take long and the noise of outraged prisoners begging for help would bring the keepers into the arena.

It was Gibbs who finally found Captain Jack Sparrow. He was held captive in a dark hole at the end of the corridor, so tightly locked in chains that he didn't have the slightest chance to move.  
"Jack!" worried about his Captain's well-beings he rattled at the bars of his cell though it seemed very unlikely to open them without a key. "We'll get you outta there, Captain, I promise."

Jack slightly lifted his head, blinked an eye and closed it again as the flickering torchlight caused him pain. He tried to remember what Will's once said about the construction of these cells.

"Half. Half planted... no... plugged, progressive..." Forgotten. Frustrated he mumbled." ...an' the bloody keys probably run off again..."

At that moment, a pitiful yelp was to be heard and deceased the same time. Scarlett came round the corner, an evil grin in the corners of her mouth, holding a blood-dripping cutlass in one hand and in her other a tinkling set of keys. She pushed herself past Gibbs, opened the door and stepped into the cell.

"Oh... lovely red-wine fairy from Tortuga hastenin' to rescue me!" Jack Sparrow gasped in utterly surprise, surely not expecting her to be here but dealing the situation in his own special way. "Didn't know you'd miss me that much... 'n I'm surely awfully sorry, luv... but I've had no chance to take a bath yet."

"Well, I'm willing to take the state you're in as an excuse."

"Yer so sweet. But, now. Please. Be so kind..." Rattling on his chains he reminded her that she'd come for his rescue and not for small talk. "...Royal Navy's hospitality isn't what it's used to be."

She could perfectly imagine a cheeky smile flashing up his face when she had to outstretch against him to reach the locks of his chains and free him with her body pressed tightly to his own. Of course, he misused the moment to sink right into her arms.

"**Captain Sparrow**!" she snapped in expectation of just another ill-considered attempt to take advantage of the situation before she caught sight of the chains she'd just released him from. A shiver crept down her spine. It was more than evident that they didn't like pirates in Port Royal and wanted to see them all swinging at the gallows- but this surely didn't include chaining an already doomed man that tightly to the wall that it could've been seen as an act of torture. Therefore, Jack might have been too weak to stand on his own feet. Her voice became softer. "Are you all right, mate?"

"Hey, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, luv." he said and collapsed right into Gibbs arms who apparently didn't know how to deal with that.

It was then when she noticed that there was blood on her hands, it felt warm, fresh, and sticky. She looked at Jack and saw blood dripping through his torn shirt.

"Jack Sparrow, you daft damned idiot! Why didn't ye say yer wounded?"

"**Captain**." he corrected. "It's Captain Jack Sparrow- 'n I'm just fine... just havin' a few scratches."

Scarlett clenched her fist. His coolness strained her nerves. It was no wonder that his behaviour might have blown the fuse of someone, and got that one in an urgent desire to whip the bloody smile off Jack's face. However, that was still no reason in torturing a man, even if that man was Captain Jack Sparrow, and it was obvious that he had been tortured. _A few scratches_ didn't cause this much blood on his back.

"I'm okay, luv." he stressed again, trying hard not to stumble and fall. "Off we go, aye. Very inhospitable this place, don't ye agree? Now, Mr. Gibbs, if you'd be so kind to take me back home to the Pearl..."

_**Stop! **...there was something concerning the Pearl..._ he tried to remember but the thoughts slipped away the moment he tried to get hold on them. All was twisting in his head and the ground under his feet had started to sway as if being on a ship sailing stormy seas- though he wasn't.

"Um... Captain... there's a little problem. There was an attack, d' ye remember? And the Pearl..." Gibbs didn't even dare to look into Jack's face now, feeling guilty without having a reason for it. He surely wasn't to blame for everything that has ever gone wrong, that's why Scarlett hurried to take his place in explaining.

"...the Pearl's as safe as Santiago's promised. And I've promised him to get yer head out of the noose so we'd better find a way out of this shit as I like keeping me word, savvy? Let's go."

After all, the noise down here had stirred up some keepers; she could hear their heavy boots on cobbled stones. Well, it had been much too easy until now but she'd never expected it'd be Jack to spoil her plan. They didn't had the slightest chance for a quite retreat into the Jamaican hinterland and back to the Jewel with him being too beaten to walk properly- so time to think of something new was what she needed first.

To gain time the principle of spreading chaos had always proved successfully and what would suit better for causing a nice little chaos than initiate a jailbreak? She took the keys and threw them right into the neighbouring cell.

"Go 'n help yourself, guys."

Within minutes, even the last man was freed and headed for the way out. An outraged crowd of partly unjust condemned men ran up the stairs to freedom meeting a troupe of Soldiers on their way down, and hell broke loose.

Scarlett listened, shrugging her shoulders with a sigh. "We'd better take the back entrance."

Gibbs looked at her in disbelief, gaining more and more the conviction that this woman was nearly as mad as his captain was though he couldn't decide whether it was meant as a compliment or not.

The bright moonlight soon revealed that it really was impossible even to think about keeping to her former plan. There was simply no way of walking though the jungle with Jack in a state like this. Though he didn't complain nor tried to show any sign of pain or weakness, he couldn't hide the sweat on his face- and that wasn't due to the warmth of a Caribbean night. It was plain to see that he was fevering. However, Captain Jack Sparrow kept on pretending that everything was fine with him because it was impossible that a Captain Jack Sparrow could feel sick. _Bloody fool._ Scarlett thought. _Please, do a favour to all of us and faint_...

Of course he didn't. Instead, he staggered his way more swaying than he did usually, being so graciously to accept at least Mr. Gibbs offering him a helping hand from time to time. In addition, Gibbs had become as lavishly caring as possible without making it too obvious that he really cared. It was ridiculous to watch the two of them. They would have gotten faster to wherever if Jack's bloody pride hadn't slowed their pace.

Scarlett felt an urgent desire to knock him off as it won't take long and guards would realize that the most wanted fugitive of the Caribbean slipped through their fingers once again, and then the whole Royal Navy would be after them. They had to hide somewhere... but where? Gibbs seemed to have an idea but he didn't tell her- of course not, might have been bad luck. He only gave her a look that said, _I know damned well how to care for my Captain_.

Well, she wasn't sure about that. She would have preferred to hide in the woody hills as no one would suspect a fleeing pirate to go that way, but Gibbs and Jack Sparrow himself had different plans. Instead of keeping away from the town, they staggered right into it.

-

The house was situated at an imaginary border of rich and poor, close to the posh domiciles of Jamaica's high society but close as well to the maze of small, dark and dirty alleys of downtown Port Royal. It was a one-floored, whitewashed cottage build of solid stone with a veranda in front that was overgrown with wild jasmine; its sweets scent filled the night.

Gibbs banged the door heavily.

A fine young lady with nicely done light-brown hair opened, looked wide-eyed at Marris and Scarlett, and then narrowed her eyes in dislike but without showing any fear.

"Get off my door you bloody pirates!" She tried to slam shut the door but Jack managed to get a foot on the threshold.

"Elisabeth, luv', is't a way to great an ol' friend?"

"Jack?" She opened the door a little again, staring at him in disbelieve. No doubt, it was Captain Jack Sparrow- though he looked worse than she had ever remembered him. "Good Lord, what has happened to you?"

"Ah, just a friendly welcome to Port Royal by your former fiancé, Commodore Norrington. It's his special way to make the gallows look tasty..." he said with only a hint of his usually big gestures, leaning weakly yet still boastful at the doorframe. "...but he forgot that I'm Captain Jack Sparrow..."

"Who'd forgotten that he didn't escape by his own means, and speaking of escape- can we come in now, please?" cutting Jack off, Scarlett forced the lady at gunpoint to give way. "We don't have time to gab away all night long."

"No!" Jack made a face and waved his arms to stop her from doing what she did. "Don't do this!"

One minute later Scarlett knew what he was about as an angry young man pointed a pistol at her. He had soft brown eyes and a face of glass that couldn't hide any emotions. He did not want to kill her but he would do it in order to protect his wife and at the same time, he seemed to be very delighted to see Jack who tried to calm down his quick-tempered young friend.

"Hush, whelp. Nothing to worry 'bout. Please don't do anything stupid, aye?" He stumbled into the house and sank right into a big, comfortable armchair taking a good look around. "Ye've got it quite nice here, whelp."

"Jack! Do not tell me you've just dropped by to tell me that you like the way I live now. What's going on?" Nearly a year had gone since they had met last time, and no matter how often he had wondered what had happened to Captain Jack Sparrow wishing to see him again, he would have preferred different circumstances. Better ones. Without Jack being in trouble once again. He repeated his question. "What's going on?"

Jack sighed. "There's no hospitality in Port Royal anymore. Now, why don't ye offer a drink to an ol' friend 'n let this ol' friend of yers introduce ye to some other good friends before being too hasty with questions?"

The young man stared in bewilderment from the pirate in the armchair to his companions, reluctant to recognize Mr.Gibbs but eyeing suspiciously at the two others who stood in his living room. Meanwhile Elisabeth proved a more practical sense and placed a tray with a decanter and some glasses on the table next to Jack, pouring him a drink. He swallowed it.

"Now, Will... ye surely remember Mr. Gibbs, do ye? Ye know he's a good man as goes for the rest o' 'em 'xept for Captain Rowan Scarlett who's in fact a fairy woman... ne'er seen hair like this... 've you?"

Will looked at Scarlett, finally realizing that she was in fact a woman though she was dressed like a pirate. She wore trousers, knee-high boots, and a shirt- all in black- and her hair was hidden under a scarf wrapped tightly around her head. Only when she turned a little he could see that a thick braid of unusual red hair hung down her back. It was really a strange colour but this didn't explain anything he had asked Jack. It just proved that he was mad.

"Well, guess that's just Sparrows way..."

"Captain!" it barked from the armchair, but Marris ignored this comment and continued smiling. "...saying how glad he is that we've freed him from jail and giving you a little hint that this might not stay unnoticed for very long. The Royal Navy will soon be after him."

"Is that true?" Will whirled around as frightened as if Commodore Norrington himself would already knock his door and that caused Sparrow to laugh a little.

"Quick-tempered as always, young Turner, aye?"

Suddenly the scales fell from Scarlett's eyes and she started to curse. "Turner? Will Turner? Bloody hell! Damned, should've thought 'bout that! You even look like Bootstrap Bill Turner when he was younger."

"He's his son." Jack noticed without need, as this was as evident as anything could be.

She looked at him with dangerously sparkling storm-clouded eyes. If someone else hadn't tried to beat the wits out of him, she'd loved to do it now. "Ye proud, boasting, daft, damned fool! Just where do ye think the Royal Navy and 'specially the Commodore would look for you in the first place if not here? Go to the devil, Captain Sparrow."

"Ah, wouldn't like to waste yer effort in savin' me, so don't worry, luv. We'll leave soon enough. Just couldn't come to Port Royal without visiting Will 'n Elisabeth." He tried to rise from his chair but failed; it was evident that he wasn't to go anywhere that soon. Captain Jack Sparrow was knocked out.

Scarlett sighed in relief- at last. Finally, she could examine these _few scratches_ that turned out to be bleeding weals of whiplashes forming bizarre patterns on his back. Nevertheless, it looked worse than it was- if the fact that they **did** torture men in the colonies wasn't worse enough- and it even wasn't the reason for having a fever. That was caused by an older, badly healing and purulent wound where a bullet had struck his shoulder still sticking in the flesh. She cursed heavily, raging at this stubborn idiot, but even more at the bloody Royal Navy for chaining and whipping a wounded man.

"Good Lord!" Elisabeth gasped in utter shock, turning away from the sight of blood and towards Will. "Be quick, go and get a doctor. Jack is wounded!"

"NO!" Scarlett yelled impatiently. "No doctor! Bloody hell, they're either incompetent quacks or serving the Royal Navy. Unless you don't have a very good explanation why you're hiding a fugitive who is doomed for the gallows- go ahead, call a doctor. Otherwise, you better leave it up to me and risk Jack's life a little less. Savvy?"

Will and Elisabeth nodded whereas Gibbs didn't seem to be convinced. He'd rather not leave his Captain in care of this witch as it became more and more evident that she must be a witch indeed. No 'normal' woman could be as she was. However, there was no other choice to consider. He shot a wary questioning look at her. "So you'd do to cure him?"

"Aye." she answered without hesitation though it really was a very good question. In fact, she didn't know.

"Well Captain- lemme see if I got it right. Ye need to cut a bullet out of Jack but can't do it here, aye?" Marris summed up catching her eyes and pointed with a nod of his head first out of the window and then to Elisabeth. "Now tell me, d' ye think the same I do?"

She followed his gaze, understood his hint and rewarded him with her most warm-hearted smile. From here, one had a gorgeous view at the governor's residence. "Marris, cutie, what would I do without you?"

"So I've got yer permission to do whatever's necessary to be done?"

"Aye my dear."

No one else in the room knew what they were about until Marris gripped hold of Elisabeth pointing a pistol at her temple. Will tried to raise his sword but Scarlett held him at gunpoint.

"Hush whelp. Don't start causing troubles when there's no need to..."

"But you offend my wife!"

"No. Actually it's my first mate offending your wife although he's not really offending her as it's only done for Jack's sake, and we all care for Jack- don't we. So, as we all agree to this I recommend we move our nice little gathering to a more exclusive place. I'm sure Governor Swann will be very pleased to welcome an infamous pirate as Captain Jack Sparrow is in his modest home."

Will stared at her confused swinging his sword from one hand to the other without knowing what to do. Finally, he hissed coldly. "Do any harm to Elisabeth and you're dead, pirate- and I won't care if you're a man or a woman."

"Darling calm down. I don't think they will hurt me. They are using me as leverage to get into my father's residence, am I right?" Elisabeth said gazing ambiguously at Scarlett. "And they are doing it for Jack, for his safety."

Scarlett avoided to meet her eyes for not throwing doubt upon her idealistic and romantic beliefs, and turned to Will Turner instead. "Now, whelp yer wife seems to be much smarter than ye are. She sees which way the wind's blowing and that the only place no one'd ever search for a wounded fugitive is her daddy's private chambers. Savvy?"

"Why don't you just ask for help? We'd help Jack of your own free will without the need of a pistol." the young man grumbled discontent with the situation.

Scarlett smiled at him conspiratorial. "Oh, the pistol's in fact for your own safety. Nobody has to know that once again you make common cause with pirates, aye."

-

The Governor of Jamaica was paralyzed with fright when a large gang of pirates stormed his bedroom awaking him with the most terrible sight, the worst nightmare: his beloved daughter was taken hostage by them. Next, he saw her useless husband unable to protect her- he really should not have permitted her to marry a blacksmith with pirate-blood in his veins. That is what happens when tolerating the folly of a love-match far below her rank. If she had married Commodore Norrington this surely would not have happened.

And he would not be cast out of bed in the middle of the night completely deprived of his dignity. Not only lacking his wig and fine garments but also dressed in a long white gown and a nightcap he looked quite ridiculous. In addition he behaved.

"Please, if you may consider that this is finest Chinese silk." he said choked when the pirates carefully laid down their wounded crony in his bed.

"Indian- it's Indian silk." Scarlett corrected as if it would have mattered but she knew the difference and couldn't resist. "I'm sure Captain Jack Sparrow will appreciate it though."

"Sparrow?" the Governor gasped stepping closer to have a better look at him then turned away again when he saw the blood, one hand to his mouth in a state of shock. "Oh my God what is he doing in Port Royal?"

Scarlett shook her head in disbelief and stared at the Governor reflecting if she should tell him now or let him have at least one guess.

"Who did this to Sparrow?"

_No, he really can't be that stupid- he might be a bit naïve but he certainly isn't an idiot. But that would mean that he **didn't know** about Norrington capturing Sparrow. What's going on here? Why's the Commodore not sharing this triumphant moment in his career?_

"**Captain** Sparrow...," it groaned over from the bed.

"Oh- you're awake, how nice..." Scarlett made a face 'cause that was something she probably needed as much as a hole in the head. She addressed to the Governor. "I need boiling water, dressing material and rum."

"I am thoroughly sorry for having to disappoint you. Nevertheless, I am not keeping a single drop of rum in my household. It is a dreadfully evil beverage..."

"Bloody hell! Just give me something comparable strong and **put on a kettle of water**!" she snorted impatiently and grew even more impatient when this task seemed to be expected too much of the Governor. If Elisabeth hadn't intervened by taking the kettle and showing her father how to boil water, Scarlett would probably have left. _Sorry Santiago but they really, really wrecked my nerves..._

The next point should be easy though. She had to get Jack drunk and drugged enough to poke around his shoulder for a bullet without making it to painful for him. However, this wasn't as easy as she had thought. Somehow this wretched pigheaded fool got what she was about to do and thankfully declined to have any more of that fine Cognac she was trying to pour into him.

"No need to get me drunk luv as yer company's as well a pleasure bein' sober."

She rolled her eyes in despair before telling him straight what she had to do. He seemed to comprehend, even managed to give her a serious look but still insisted on his decision. There was nothing she could do but give him the painful way he wanted. Maybe he'd beg for booze 'n more when she started to clean his wounds. First, he flashed a cheeky smile when she tore the remains of his shirt off his shoulders.

"Didn't know you like to rush things that much..."

Scarlett bit back all she wanted to reply when Elisabeth handed her a kettle with boiling water and some clean cloths. She as well resisted her urgent desire to smack a wet cloth at his back though he might have deserved it. Instead, she carefully cleaned his wounds.

She had to admit that he was tough. Though he clawed a pillow no sound passed his lips, and she had seen really tougher men crying out in pain when Santiago had cleaned their wounds. But he only groaned once and that was because of Governor Swann.

"Elisabeth I must protest. It is not proper for a lady of your rank to look at a half-naked man. Please have a sense of decency."

Scarlett stopped her work fixing the Governor with eyes that could even freeze the Caribbean. "Decency? You've got a nerve speaking 'bout decency! Look what the decent Royal Navy had done to Jack. Now, is there any need to torture a wounded man in order to break him before bringing him to the gallows?"

All fell silent. Jack Sparrow forgot to remind her that he's used to be called 'captain' because somehow he liked the way she calls him 'Jack'- sounds more familiar, aye?- and Governor Swann was simply lacking words. Not for very long though.

"I... I explicitly recline torture and I definitely detest any form of unnecessary violence. I am going to have an earnest word with Commodore Norrington concerning this regrettable incident." he stated then but that infuriated Scarlett only a little more if possible.

"Yeah, great idea! Go 'n tell Commodore Norrington that ye couldn't stand the sight of blood on Sparrow's back when he was lying in your bed."

Jack couldn't help but laugh though Scarlett had continued cleaning his wounds more fiercely than it was intentional due to still raging fury.

"If you think that's fun just wait till I poke your shoulder with my dagger." she warned him before her voice became softer, almost begging. "Please Jack drink that bloody Cognac. No use in playing the hero only to prove yer a fool. This'll gonna be really very, very painful."

He looked at her with determined dark eyes that told her to do whatever's necessary without caring about causing him pain. For one moment she wished she could hit his head with no-matter-what just to knock him off. Then she realized that it was neither pride nor folly that made him act like this but a suspicious distrust. He didn't trusted anybody enough that he could afford to loose his senses at a place he figured to be unsafe. She sighed.

Gibbs got that wrong. "You sure know what you're doing, Lady...um, Captain Scarlett?"

"Aye." she answered though she's all but sure. She'd never done anything like this before only watched Santiago doing it and assisted him from time to time. Unfortunately, Santiago wasn't here so she had to do something or Jack would die of blood poisoning sooner or later. She knew that and he knew it too. Scarlett turned away to heat her blade in the glowing coals of a fire that the Governor usually kept burning all night despite the fact that he lived in the Caribbean now and not in England anymore.

She took her time, thought about what she had to do and tried to remember how the Spaniard used to do it when suddenly Marris touched her shoulder handing her a small bag with something round and solid in.

"Santiago gave it to me before we left, somehow foreseeing you might need it."

She knew what it was without having to look into the bag- Santiago's wonder-cure-all. Raising her eyes to the ones of her first mate, she saw an imperturbable belief in his clear blue gaze that she'd handle it. Nevertheless, she merely shrugged her shoulders before going back to work.

Once again she asked Jack if was sure about not wanting some more Cognac, and again he said no. Then she beckoned Will Turner and Mr.Gibbs to help her by ordering them to hold Jack down- **no matter what's happening**- as she had a nasty job to do. She tried to feel for the bullet before she placed her blade in position to make a stab. Blood gushed and pus poured from the wound but Jack didn't utter a sound. He didn't cry out nor did faint- like Governor Swann. She just saw him tensing his muscles when she dug the blade deeper into his flesh, and she knew that it wasn't easy anymore for Will and Gibbs to hold him. Finally, the point of her blade hit something solid, a round piece of metal. With a skilled looking yet more instinctive twist of hand, she flung it out. Elisabeth handed her more clean cloth to apply a pressure bandage, and it was only then that it occurred to Scarlett that the bullet had hit his back. He was shot from behind. Considering that he was all but a coward, she slowly began to understand why he didn't want to get drunk or drugged. _But he must rest and sleep now to recover_, she thought.

"Already done?" Jack mumbled and made an effort to smile at her but this time he didn't manage more than a contorted grimace. His face was wet with sweat.

If the end justifies the means as they say, she had to put an end to this now.

"Oh yer such a brave 'n strong guy." she chirped looking at him as if she had just fallen in love with him. She took a cloth to wipe the sweat off his face gently, toying a little with the beads in his hair. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Though he looked really sick, he grinned suggestively. "Ev'rythin' ye want luv... 'cept pesterin' me with 't little dagger o' yers again."

She kissed his cheek then reached for the decanter to fill a good glass of Cognac, had a mouthful and handed it to Jack. "Yer sure ye don't want some?"

"Well...if ye ask me that nice."

Carefully she helped him to sit up and drink. Will, Elisabeth and Gibbs changed astonished glances, unsure what to think about this unexpected situation. They even looked more surprised when Scarlett leaned forward to kiss Jack- except for Elisabeth whose face lightened in notion of a romantic scene. Only Marris saw an ironic sparkle in the corners of Rowan Scarlett's eyes and had to bite his lips not to burst into laughter. Governor Swann meanwhile was not amused at all.

"I am not sure whether I can tolerate these immoral manners of indecency and lasciviousness under my roof."

"But 't was... only... little kiss..." Captain Jack Sparrow mumbled with sleepy contentment, then his head sank heavily into the pillows and he passed out.

"Sorry Jack. It's this thing with the end justifying the means." Rowan whispered giving the unconscious pirate a thoughtful look, before shrugging her shoulders. "Never thought it'd work that fast though."

Gibbs gasped in sudden realization that something was very foul. He saw this ring on her finger, a silver one with ornamental engravings and a back onyx on top that was lifted up. She didn't even try to hide this little venomous thing, just slowly closing the lid. He feared the worst

"You bloody bitch! What have you done to my Captain?" He grabbed the empty glass, sniffed at it and turned in a desperate outburst of raging frustration to Captain Scarlett. Will Turner had to interfere and prevent him from attacking her. "**You've poisoned Jack!**"

"Drugged." she corrected calmly, not at all impressed with neither his anger nor his worries. "I've **drugged** him."

"Well, is there any difference?"

Scarlett rolled her eyes; abruptly feeling tired and definitely pissed off with arguing as much as with Gibbs himself. She refused to answer this question.

"Mr. Gibbs, I can't image that she's saved Jack only to poison him." said Will.

"You're right boy." Marris agreed before affectionately turning to Scarlett. "Now, take a rest Rowan. I'll handle this." Then he looked at Gibbs and Will who both seemed to be eager for an explanation. "Okay guys. First, you'll know the difference if you'd try both in the right order- unfortunately you still won't be able to share your experiences afterwards. Second, no one would pay for being poisoned but people do spent money to get drugged and Jack Sparrow got it all for free. So don't grudge him his sweet dreams, aye?"

"But why did that witch do that to Jack in such an insidious and malicious way?"

"Because Captain Scarlett is much cleverer 'n smarter than a superstitious old seadog like you are. She knows that your Captain's been badly wounded and needs time to recover. Now, can any of you imagine Captain Jack Sparrow lying quiet in a bed, doing nothing but regaining strength No? Well, neither can I. So it was crucial to put him to a rest somehow, 'cause otherwise we'd all freak out by time. Besides, if ye ever call her a witch again I'd kill you. Savvy?"

"No need to exaggerate things, my dear." Scarlett told her mate sluggish. "I really don't bother what he thinks about me."

"Well, but I do. Anyway, I guess all of us could use a little rest 'til sunrise, can't we? I'll take the first watch."

-

In the twilight hour before sunrise the Governor's chamber was almost quiet except for Governor Swann himself who was snoring in an armchair near the fire. Gibbs couched half-asleep on the floor next to the bed, Marris guarded the door, and Will and Elisabeth sat together in comforting embrace on a small sofa. However, now and then the young man rose his eyes to look somehow thoughtfully at Captain Rowan Scarlett who sat cross-legged on the bed, back leant against a bedpost, eyes closed though she wasn't sleeping.

"What's troublin' you, lad?" she quietly asked after a while.

"I... um, you've mentioned my father, Bootstrap Bill Turner." he burst out with what's been preying on his mind ever since she had brought up the topic a good while ago. "You've said you knew him when he was younger."

"Aye."

"Well, can you tell me something about him? I mean, except for the things that pirates usually say?"

"But I'm a pirate meself, didn't ye get it yet?" She focused him with calm green eyes, a little bit amused. Nevertheless she could see an urgent desire in his eyes desperately wanting to find out more about his own descent. She sighed, beckoning him closer, and he rushed to her side eagerly followed by Elisabeth. "So, what do ye wanna know?"

"My mum's always told me he'd been a good man. Then I've found out that he was a pirate and not a merchant sailor who obeyed the law. Nevertheless, all pirates I've met claimed that he was good pirate- and a good man. Knowing Jack I also know now that these things can coincide sometimes though I still wonder..." Insecurely he looked at her, a big question mark in his face. "But why do good men turn into pirates? Why?"

"Maybe 'cause they're good men," Scarlett seriously replied not mocking him at all. "Now, young William Turner you haven't seen much of the world yet if you still believe that law and justice are one and the same. I can tell you a little story proving that these two things have less in common than bein' a pirate and a good man, and that laws can only be as just as the person who enact them. It's the story of a man who saw a young lady in distress rushing to protect her from three obtrusive guys. Bad luck for him that these guys were the sons of some highly-respected Lords and the 'lady' was only an unnamed maid belonging to the household of one of these Lords. That changed the situation drastically, as the man who only wanted to help was now the man to be in charge for attacking and insulting three 'gentlemen'. He was sentenced to serve the Navy for five years, an attempt to send him far away until enough grass was grown on this 'regrettable incident'. Do you think that's fair? Well, and I'm sure you've never been aboard a Royal Navy's war-ship, have you? I haven't been either but I can tell you that there are more friendly sharks in the entire seas than fair captains in the Navy- and at least sharks don't consider any rules of hierarchy. The Royal Navy does. A bunch of highborn and so-called noble people oppresses the underlings by all sorts of means that occurred to their stuck-up noses, especially young boys who were pressed in duty by being at the wrong place at the wrong time. They were treated like scum, like doormats for the egos of Captains. They were the ones who were sent to the tops of the masts to drop canvas when a storm broke loose tough it was cruel, but losing one of them caused as much pain as the prick of a pin. Only the man who was sentenced to serve the Navy for five years felt pity with them and that got him in conflict with the law once again, as you have to obey any orders the Captain gives no matter what or how unjust they are. However, he disobeyed a given order and helped one of these little boys who was simply too frightened to climb the rigging in a raging storm, so therefore he was punished The narrow-minded Captain made him to whip the boy but he didn't get away with this and soon it was his turn to be whipped. The Captain ordered fifty strokes- luckily some pirates interrupted this spectacle. The man joined them. Tough they were called lawless they had put up their own laws which were more suitable and fair to him, and though he never regretted his choice, he most surely regretted not being able to return to England again to see his beloved wife and his little baby boy. He stayed with us for a while until he met Jack Sparrow; I guess they became something like friends- and then one day everything went frightfully wrong due to that stinking piece of shit called Barbossa. When I've met Bootstrap Bill years later he's only a shadow of himself, being eaten away by a grievous pain for not having cared enough 'bout you and me and Jack; for having sent this medallion to you and for not being able to avoid the mutiny."

Will needed a few minutes to understand, to understand the full meaning of what she was saying. He looked at her in disbelieve. "What are you talking about? My father's dead, he died when Barbossa sent him to Davy Jones locker... or maybe later when the curse was lifted..."

"No. He survived, and he was at least party alive when I saw him in one of Shanghai's worst opium holes, trying to kill all emotions and all that's still left of him. Santiago took him out of there to a Buddhist's monarchy some miles away from Shanghai."

"Oh." was all Will Turner could say.


	5. 4 a party in Port Royal

**author's note: **is there anyone out there? Please read and review. Thanks so much to Ellenar for reading, reviewing, correcting my errors and encouraging me; it really means a lot to me. And thanks to Sandra for Spanish translations

4. a party in Port Royal

Scarlett rose from the bed and left Will in a mess of emotions. Though this had been one reason for returning to the Caribbean- to find the son of a father who's thought his son is dead and to tell the son that his father isn't dead. To disentangle this muddled situation and to knot together loose ends- there was no time to do this now. Also there was no use racking her brains over how and why Santiago knew that young Will Turner was alive. While she'd to wait for a hint that Jack Sparrow gave her. She hadn't even being sure until this night. No one would ever be able to tell what's inside Santiago's head but that should be the least of her problem today.

Instead there were many other questions that required her attention more than the mysterious ways of a weird Spaniard. _What's going on in Port Royal_? was the most pressing one straight followed by _what's Norrington up to?_ Why had he not reported either Jack Sparrow's capture or his escape? Why did he keep both secret? Was he even bothering to look for him? Well she was quite sure about this, because it was quite obvious that he had a personal dislike of Jack as the lashes on his back proved. So why wasn't all of Port Royal in a state of alert, why hadn't Norrington knocked on the Governor's door yet? She had to find out but that was something she couldn't do from this room. In addition it was also necessary that everyone present acted as usual, like nothing had happened. That included Governor Swann doing what a governor usually does as well as Will working in his forge.

"Gents, I'd like to remind you once again that Elisabeth is still my hostage." she addressed Swann specifically in case he might have happened to forget about this. "So you better not even think about doing anything stupid. A bullet in the brain can be a very nasty thing."

Though using drastic words Scarlett put away her pistol the same instant the governor had left the room, and then she smiled conspiratorial at Elisabeth. "Now, my dear, let's see what kind of secrets Port Royal keeps for two pretty ladies like us. Shall we go for a walk and stroll 'round this lovely town?"

Elisabeth raised her eyebrows in surprise. "You do want me to take a walk with you? Everyone can see that you're a pirate."

"Aye. That fore, I'm gonna disguise myself. I recommend that ye borrow me some... well, let's say **suitable** clothes."

"Captain! You're gonna wear a dress? Like a fine lady?" Marris gasped. "Now, I really wanna see that."

"No way, my dearest one. You're gonna hold your position assisting Mr.Gibbs taking care of Jack." Scarlett said but as well she meant to say, _and to keep an eye on Mr.Gibbs_. She couldn't help it- of the two first mates in this room Marris was the only one she trusted. Then she turned to Elisabeth asking her if she was willing to help her get dressed like a lady, and the younger woman seemed to be amused by that, so she agreed.

-

The room they went had the atmosphere of a museum. The furniture was covered with white clothes to keep the dust away but the dust of years had been stronger. It whirled up when they entered and tiny flakes danced in the sunlight that fell in through a window overlooking the harbour. There was a picture on the wall. The woman in the portrait looked just like Elisabeth, only a couple of years older.

"These are my mother's things. Father couldn't stand the thought of leaving it back in England when we were set off for Jamaica so he packed up all of it. In the first years he came here quite often to remember her but I haven't seen him doing so lately. Therefore I don't think he would be bothered if you wore one of my mother's dresses." Elisabeth explained and opened an old wardrobe. It was stuffed with clothes but not all of them seemed old enough to predate her mother's death. Thoughtfully she shook her head.

"Guess the servants have changed this room into a stock for unneeded things." Scarlett said pointing at the footsteps that were quite visible in the dust in front of the closet, but the closet itself wasn't as dusty as the rest of the room. She stepped closer to have a better look at the contents. "Hmm, I suppose you don't want me to dress up as your lady's maid and a schoolmarm would be even more ridiculous. I need to be a woman of the same rank as you are."

"How are you going to explain your presence in Port Royal anyway as nobody has ever seen you here before?" Elisabeth asked while watching the pirate irresolutely rummaging through the dresses, taking one or another out of the wardrobe before putting it back again with a sickened face.

Scarlett paused and looked out of the window to the ships down in the harbour. "Well, you just have to tell me which one's arrived just lately and I'll spin a yarn."

Then she concentrated on the contents of the wardrobe again, already regretting her idea. She had never thought she'd be that vain yet she was indeed. However, she couldn't imagine herself in a dress printed with tiny flowers or in a pale blue one as it simply wouldn't fit with her hair. Her hair- that was another problem. She had to hide as much of it as possible because the colour was just too flashy to go unnoticed, and though she had been away from the Caribbean for nearly ten years now it was possible that some still remembered her.

Finally she discovered a black veil and a dress that matched with it, but Elisabeth wasn't very happy with her choice.

"Oh no, Captain Scarlett, you can't walk the streets of Port Royal wearing a black dress as that colour is reserved for widows in grief for a beloved one."

"Dear, my beloved husband has just died, how can you be so cruel to remind me all the time?" Rowan Scarlett faked a sob that made Elisabeth burst out in helpless giggles.

"By God, you are a good actress, Captain Scarlett..."

"Ah, just call me Rowan!" the elder woman interrupted smiling. She placed her weapons on a table. There were two pistols, a sword and a cutlass from her belt, the dagger she had used to pick a bullet out of Jack Sparrow's shoulder, a third pistol she had pulled from somewhere in her shirt and another dagger hidden in her boots. Then she undressed with a naturalness that didn't know any modesty.

Elisabeth knew that decency should have demanded that she to keep her eyes off the naked woman in front of her yet she couldn't help but stare at her in curiosity. Of course she hadn't seen many naked people in her life let alone a naked pirate- thanks the Lord! Anyway, she realized that there weren't much anatomically differences between a female pirate and herself, except for the smooth lines of muscles flowing under Rowan Scarlett's dark golden tanned skin. Then she watched her clumsily attempt to get dressed again. There was a rustle of many layers of textile followed by a choked cry for help.

"Oh no Rowan, now don't tell me that you **can** sneak into Port Royal unseen, pull off a jailbreak, make the boldest plans and even know about the art of healing, but that you **can't **dress properly."

"Hey, no one's perfect."

Carefully Elisabeth helped her strange new friend to handle the complicated problems of dressing like a lady and specially enjoyed the part of being the one to lace a corset instead of being laced.

"Not that tight! Bloody hell, I'm here to solve a secret 'n not to be in the market." Scarlett groaned before looking in a mirror next to the wardrobe. She saw a strange but yet familiar image of herself and faked a smile to her reflection. "Now, where do fine ladies hide a pistol 'n a dagger just in case they might need it?"

"Well, fine ladies wearing fine clothes usually don't even know how to use a pistol or a dagger therefore they don't need a place to hide it. But as I'm sure that you're never going anywhere unarmed I recommend you to wear a handbag."

Scarlett flashed a thankful smile and off they went straight into the streets of Port Royal. Though they passed many soldiers on their way no one seemed to be on alert. They nodded politely as they had to when two fair ladies walked by and then continued with whatever they'd been doing before being interrupted, nothing much. There was some gossip about last night's jailbreak but no one ever mentioned the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow.

Finally they reached the harbour. There was a galleon lying at anchor at the entrance of the bay, cannons aligned to give any intruder the deserved welcome. It was the Dauntless, Elisabeth explained before pointing to three smaller ships at the navy's pier, two brigs and a ketch.

"And these are Commodore Norrington's new toys, just arrived from London to replace the Interceptor. They're called Challenger, Huntress and Executer, and they're here to bring an end to piracy in the Caribbean."

"A pompous plan, I hope he fails." Rowan said and asked for the huge, grey two-decker that Mr.Gibbs had seen. Elisabeth shrugged her shoulders.

"The Dauntless is the Royal Navy's biggest ship as Mr. Gibbs should know."

"Hmm..." Scarlett wondered about that. Though Gibbs might have been a superstitious old seadog she figured that he wasn't that superstitious to mistake an unknown, grey, two-decked vessel with the Dauntless, even if he had been in a state of shock. So instead of solving one problem she was outright confronted with the next. Anyway, at least the sight of a well known merchant-ship gave her an idea what yarn to spin if someone would ask for her origin. She was from Spain, a Spanish lady...

"Why did you become a pirate, Rowan?" asked Elisabeth all of a sudden and therefore interrupted her thoughts without warning.

"For freedom." she simply answered before considering that her answer surely wouldn't be enough to please a woman like Elisabeth. But would Elisabeth understand the plain truth? She had started to like her so she tried to explain. "Well, unlike you I wasn't born to a wealthy family and I became an orphan when I was about five. So I knew from the beginning that I only had a few choices but I wanted to be free of predetermined ways. I didn't want to be a maid serving the upper class nor did I want to become a whore. That's why I've decided to become a pirate, and Fortuna had been kind to me by sending me a Spaniard who- for what reasons - spread his wings over me. He taught me everything I needed to know about ships, nautical things and the ability to protect myself. So here I am, being exactly what I ever wanted to be. Why be satisfied with less?"

Elisabeth took her time to think about it and eventually had to agree with some points that Rowan had stated about predetermined ways. If her father hadn't love her so much she would've had to marry Commodore Norrington and not the man she loved though this one was of a much lower rank, a blacksmith. Fortune had been good with her as well. Nevertheless she had to think about pirate's ways and means, how harsh, rough and cruel they could be. She thought about slaughtering, raiding, plundering, maybe even raping...

"We're not like that." Rowan said calmly as if she could read her thoughts. "Being a pirate doesn't mean to be like Barbossa. We avoid cruelty. We don't plunder villages. We don't take slaves, we free them. We only rob the rich, never the poor. We lively trade but without the East India Trading Company getting its share. Some might call this smuggling but I prefer to call it free enterprise. We disrespect the monarchs of this world who incite wars for profit, and our community proves that English, French, Spanish and even Indian men can get along with each other. Well, actually I think that we're the only good ones in this world."

Elisabeth chuckled. It was so easy to believe every word that Rowan says and maybe she was even right with her theory. She couldn't tell; she hadn't seen enough of the world yet besides she had never cared much about politics as this was something young ladies shouldn't care about. In fact there where other things that interested her much more. She had to ask Rowan about her relationship to Jack suggesting that she was still risking her life to save his.

At that moment the bells of St. Paul's started ringing and saved Scarlett from answering this question as Elisabeth once again misjudged her reasons to be of romantic nature and there surely wasn't any romance. Instead there was a hustle and bustle of people in the streets now, all hurrying toward Fort Charles.

"Oh my God, how could I have forgotten about that? Today's the official welcome for the Captains of the new ships. They're going to be presented to the people of Port Royal and everyone is asked to be present." Elisabeth gasped. "Hurry, we have to get Will."

They made their way to the forge when Will Turner already walked towards them wearing the fine clothes of a respectable gentleman. He stared at Elisabeth as if he would have liked to embrace her before remembering that was a taboo in public, so he just offered her his arm. Then he saw a black-dressed woman at his wife's side yet it took him a while to recognize that the 'widow' was Captain Rowan Scarlett in disguise.

"Oh..." was all he managed to say.

Together they walked on to Fort Charles where all seemed to be in wait for them to start the ceremony. Governor Swan was so happy to see Elisabeth well that he didn't even wonder about the new member of his family as Scarlett had naturally joined them on the VIP stand.

What followed was a dreadful boring ceremony of exhibiting military honours with a preacher man blessing it all and especially the three Captains for serving their country and the king, and God bless the King. Scarlett nearly got sick of it. They represented just everything she had ever despised and even underlined her despite once more. Yet she had to endure it. At least Will seemed to be as bored as she was stepping from one foot to another, waiting for an end. They changed glances of understanding.

"That's the punishment for marrying a woman far above my rank." he secretly whispered to Scarlett. "I really, really love her more than anything in this world but I'll never get used to this representative stuff her father's so keen on. And of course I can never meet his high expectations..."

To prove his words Governor Swann shot him an annoyed look and Elisabeth gently elbowed kicked his ribs to remind him that silence was appropriate. Nevertheless she rolled her eyes to show him that she was bored as well.

The ceremony was ended with a salute. All canons were fired three times and in that deafening noise the assembled crowd broke into many different directions. People went back to work, soldiers to their position, and some chosen ones set to make their way to the Governors residence where a more distinguished party was to be held. Servants in livery awaited them with trays offering everyone a glass of champagne. Scarlett took one glass and made the inexcusable mistake to thank the man who was offering it, a huge Negro looking rather ridiculous in his livery and white wig.

"Hush- he's a slave. Fine ladies never thank a slave and you better keep to it if you want to keep your disguise." Elisabeth informed her.

Scarlett turned up her mouth. "I'm against slavery as I've told you, and I can imagine a strong guy like him doing much better work on my ship than doing the flashy Harry here."

"Please Rowan- even saying something like this can get you in trouble if it falls into the wrong ears."

The Negro watched both with a frozen face and only a slightly lifted eyebrow indicated that he had followed their conversation attentively. Scarlett met his eyes for a second, seeing the pain of a caged wild animal in them. Then her attention was drawn by Commodore Norrington entering the hall and she used the occasion to have a closer look at him.

He was dressed in his best uniform with shiny buttons and golden braids, highly decorated with medals. His boots were polished until they gleamed; his wig fitted perfectly without even a single hair sticking out of the elegantly curled locks. He looked as pale, stiff and absolutely correct as an English Gentleman possibly could, and he seemed to lack any kind of humour.

"Gosh, ye can feel damned lucky that ye didn't have to marry him, Liz. Just imagine that he's the same in bed like he represents himself here."

Elisabeth blushed, looking frantically around in case someone might have picked up that but fortunately it wasn't so. She felt really embarrassed. This was something a lady should nevertalk about, not even with her best friend and certainly not with a pirate in disguise who she had met for the first time only a few hours ago. Yet- reconsidering it- Rowan Scarlett was surely right.

Scarlett had no idea how her word had aroused Elisabeth as she kept on watching the Commodore secretly. His whole appearance made it clear that he was indeed a very ambitious man who wouldn't rest until even the very last pirate of the Caribbean is swinging at the gallows- but he definitely wasn't a man who would furiously whip the skin off another man's back even if that man was Captain Jack Sparrow. Also he wasn't a man to keep the capture of an infamous pirate secret as he seemed to be quite mad about medals and climbing the ladder of hierarchy to become an Admiral.

She was still thinking about it over when he came over to them after having spotted Elisabeth without her husband. He addressed her as Mrs. Turner, asked for her state of being and with a heavy heart for that of her husband as well. She replied to these courtesies as politely as she could and hoped that he would leave them alone as soon as possible. Unfortunately he didn't leave but caught sight of Scarlett and bowed to her.

"Mrs. Turner, I am inconsolable and please forgive my thoughtlessness nevertheless I cannot remember having ever seen your lovely company before. Is the Lady a member of your most honourable family?"

"May I introduce you to..." Elisabeth chose the first Spanish name that came to her mind. "...Isabela..."

"Isabela?"

"Isabela is a distant member of my family." Elisabeth explained.

"Si. Isabela de la Rioja. My mother was the niece of Mrs. Swann's- God blesses her- cousin second degree that went to King Philipp IV and Queen Maria Anna's court during a short period of peace, where she married a Spanish Lord." Scarlett lied with her sweetest smile gracefully offering her hand to the Commodore that he may courteously kiss it. "Oh it is so nice to meet such a fine highly honoured English gentlemen."

"I am delighted to meet a very charming lady." Thoughtfully he looked at Scarlett. "How can it be that I never had been so lucky to meet you before, Lady Isabella?"

"I have just arrived in Port Royal with the Gavina, dear Sir." Scarlett answered formally, proving that she could handle the situation perfectly. That was before the Commodore suddenly frowned.

"I didn't know that the Gavina carries passengers, however- there is Captain Escobar. I will ask him to join us."

Oh no, Scarlett thought and stared at the floor hoping in would open and swallow her. Of course it didn't. Then Norrington returned with an elder, grey-haired and very distinguished looking Spaniard whose face was dominated by a huge moustache.

"Lady Isabella de la Rioja was so kind to tell me just a minute ago that it was your pleasure to take her from Spain to Port Royal." she heard the Commodore say before she had to look up to welcome Capitano Ruiz Escobar. First he gazed at her in bewilderment but he regained his composure quickly.

"Doña Isabella, how nice to meet you again. I hope you had no reason to complain about the voyage." he said.

"Muchas gracias, Capitano. How can I complain if someone is so kind like you are?" Scarlett answered very relieved 'cause Captain Escobar had apparently decided to join her little game.

"Only on rare occasions does the Gavina carry passengers and most surely none of them had ever been such an entertaining one as Doña Isabella. She also has a profound knowledge of good wines."

"You certainly remember that my recently deceased husband was a winegrower." She faked a sob and turned to Norrington. "After he died I was desperately in need of the comfort only relatives can give."

"I see. Furthermore, I would like to express my deepest sympathy for your terrible loss, Mylady. It must be awful to become a widow being so young at age. May I require how your husband died?"

"Preguntas locas." Rowan said kindly, eyelashes fluttering like butterflies, and with an ever-so-sweet smile on her lips. She's just too glad that he didn't understand any Spanish at all.

"You must excuse me for not knowing this kind of disease. I hope he did not have to suffer that much."

She just bit her lips in what seemed to be despair, though it was only the despair not to laugh. Norrington bowed to her stiffly as he was, apologised for bothering her with questions while she was in grief. He turned in order to get drinks for the ladies.

Scarlett addressed Escobar who seemed to be very amused. "Well, muchas gracias, for not giving me away. One word from you and you'd never have me troubling you or your Gavina again."

"Oh, your head is much to pretty for the noose." He smiled at her gently. "Now, would it be too presumptuous to ask a mourning widow for one dance, Doña Isabella?"

"I can hardly refuse your request, but I doubt that it'll be suitable for a mourning widow."

"I'm old enough to be your father so no one should care." he said and led her to the dance floor. A slow waltz was being played and while dancing with her he warned her in Spanish. "Whatever you're doing here Captain Scarlett, I highly recommend that you leave Port Royal as soon as possible. They don't like pirates in this town and they've just tightened up the security precautions in the harbour. There is a lot of gossip. I've heard soldiers saying that Commodore Norrington has somehow changed and they said it with fear far beyond respect. There was also talk of some 'agents' that work for him, strangers not serving the Royal Navy and always proceeding secretly. His Grey Army they call them."

"Speaking of grey- has anybody ever mentioned a grey ship?"

"Yes indeed, but I wouldn't put too much faith in it as it was a drunk talking about a phantom ship and curses. No one in the tavern believed him."

"Very interesting. You've helped me again Capitano Escobar and I don't know why you're doing it."

"As I've said your head is much to pretty for the noose and I do enjoy your company. So take good care of yourself."

Escobar guided her back to Elisabeth politely and said goodbye to the two ladies. Elisabeth welcomed her with a frown.

"Who was he? Another pirate?"

Scarlett shook her head still wondering. Then she explained that Captain Escobar works for a winegrower and had been in bad luck of being seized by her a couple of times that they apparently became friends.

"The first time we took the whole cargo. The second time only the vintage I'd preferred and at the next time he started a conversation about wine, and we all- his crew and mine- got friendly drunk together. The last time he begged me to spare him as he would get into trouble, so I did. Nevertheless he gave me a barrel of my favourite wine he had smuggled especially for me as if he'd known that we'd meet again. Yet I wasn't sure if he wouldn't betray me given a chance... oh it is such a nice party, Elisabeth, isn't it?"

The last words she nearly chirped, speaking louder than before to warn her friend that Norrington was returning, offering each lady one glass of a sweet liquor that was very popular with Jamaican ladies. Not with Rowan Scarlett though. He tried to start a conversation again but was interrupted only a little later by his adjutant who handed him a very important note. After he had read it he bowed to the ladies assuring them that he was inconsolable to leave them but urgent affairs forced him to. If there maybe was the slightest chance that Mylady Isabella de la Rioja would accept an invitation for dinner tomorrow evening?

"I would be so pleased to dine with such a fine English gentlemen." Scarlett lied to him with a smile. She waited until the Commodore had vanished in the crowed before she turned to Elisabeth. "Time to leave the party, lass. We go 'n say good night to yer dad to remind him that yer me hostage, so try to look frightened. Then you can go home with Will. Savvy?"

"But how about you and Jack and the others?" Elisabeth asked concerned.

"They'll be all right as long as your father thinks you're my hostage. Just give me time to find out what Norrington's up to, please."

-

It was difficult not to loose Norrington in the crowd as she couldn't hurry after him; this would have been much too conspicuous and of course not very ladylike. So she had to follow him at a secure distance trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. The music and laughter of the party slowly faded behind her when she reached a long dark corridor. She feared she had lost him as there was no one in sight and all was quiet. On tiptoe she moved on sneaking as good as she could in her rustling dress. Suddenly she heard voices.

"Miserable son of a bitch! I've just asked for a simple favor but you've managed to fail even this. Ah, you're gonna be a splendid Admiral!" someone cursed loudly

"...tried with all means, Sir, please believe me... close to the vest... wouldn't give coordinates to me... no compass, Sir..." the second voice was much lower speaking in a servile tone, quietly lamenting. Though she could only understand some fragments it sounded somehow familiar to her- yet it seemed to be impossible that it was really Commodore Norrington's voice.

"You're such a fool. He had walked straight into the trap and all you had to do was to tickle him with the cat-o'-nine-tails to wring out the secret."

Scarlett couldn't understand the answer so she went further, reached a corner and then saw an open door just a few feet away; the light of candles flickered into the corridor. She crept closer trying to get a look at the two men of which she believed Norrington was one.

Indeed it was him as she could see a little later. He just explained his version of how the jailbreak could have happened, guessed it might have been rebels that hid in the jungle like the maroons. However it was not the Commodore Norrington she had met as he seemed to have lost all his power, control and honor in the presence on the other man in the room- and this one was a real surprise, even a shock to Scarlett. Apparently the existing word had collapsed and twisted into a perverted reality where nothing was any longer as it had been before. Where a respected man of high merit could become a groveling servant while a formally unobtrusive, bootlicking, obviously mentally retarded creature was his reverenced master.

The creature was Ratbone but nothing remained of the wretched hunchback she had seen in Tortuga. He stood upright now and wasn't dressed in grey rags anymore but in a charcoal-grey brocade coat embroidered with strange symbols and ornaments; an aura of gloomy power was about him.

That should have warned her to be more careful or better to vanish instantly instead of being too eager and curious in view of solving the secret she had been after. There were still too many open questions waiting for answers.

"Sir, I did all I could to find him but please allow me a little more time to satisfy your desires. My agents have already fanned out to comb..."

"To satisfy **my **desires? Wasn't it you who called me for help to fulfill **your** desires? Wasn't it you who wanted to be Admiral of the Caribbean, Sovereign of all islands, a sublime and most powerful ruler? I've promised you to give you all of that and even more... Hush!" Ratbone broke off his speech with a warningly raised hand, listening hard. "Haven't you heard anything?"

Norrington slowly turned his face towards the door and Scarlett had to gasp shocked as there was no expression in at all. But his eyes were even worse. They had become totally black, a blank, impassive and absolutely emotionless stare.

It was then when someone grabbed her from behind, put a big black hand over her mouth to prevent her from screaming and drew her into a dark niche that was covered with a curtain. Here he let go off her but warned her to be quiet. She nodded though she knew he could hardly see it as it was so dark that she only spotted the white of his eyes. Yet she knew who he was.

Silently he led her some secret ways to the kitchen of the residence where it was secure enough to speak again.

"Dangerous people." he said. "Much too dangerous to sneak after and secretly listen. Never meddle with magician's evil plans. Don't want to find out. No good."

Scarlett took a deep breath and ran her fingers through her hair forgetting that a veil covered it, so she messed up all due to the state of relieve, surprise and shock she was still in.

"Well, thanks a lot. Nevertheless I guess you've risked much more. Why did you help me?"

"I not have anything to loose and you're nice lady. Thanked me twice today. That is more nice words than hearing in two years." the huge slave said.

"What's your name?"

"They call me Joshua." he paused for a moment. "But me name's M'leh."

"All right M'leh, I'll remember you name as I never forget a man who's helped me. And I still can imagine you doing better work on my ship, get it?"

He just looked at her solemnly, not allowing himself to show more expression than a tiny flash in his eyes.

-

The Governor sat in his armchair next to the fire trying to concentrate on some documents but failed due to three noisy pirates and constant worries about his beloved daughter when Scarlett entered the room through the window, dressed and armed as usual again. He stared at her horrified.

"Where's Elisabeth?"

"Well, going to bed with her husband I guess." she snapped.

He blushed- maybe he still hadn't realized that Elisabeth wasn't a little girl anymore but that wasn't one of her worries. She saw that Jack Sparrow was awake looking much better than the night before, and that Marris had obviously managed to keep him in bed. Now what a talent. He was so good at telling stories and entertained Jack as well as Mr. Gibbs with one of their Asian adventures while a bottle of whatever circled between the three of them. The casualness of this scenery suddenly annoyed her. She took the bottle from Jack and emptied it in one swallow.

"What's up Captain?" Marris asked as he could feel her strain.

She didn't answer at once but had to think about it. How could she tell him what she had seen? Well she had seen Santiago doing strange things that were beyond reason, had heard him talk in riddles, had learnt about curses and undead pirates- she had took it all for granted without ever believing in magic. But today she had realized that magic actually exists and that it was scary. It was powerful and evil, dark and frightfully dangerous.

"Now, if something can scare you, Rowan, then it is really serious. We should get away from here soon." Marris said after she had finished her story. They had separated from the others while talking and now Rowan glanced at Jack Sparrow. He followed her concerned look. "Yeah I know he'd better have another day of rest but..."

"And besides, we can't leave the Turners behind. They'll be in danger if they stay here."

"But if they come with us as they'll never be able to return."

"I've considered this as well 'n that's why I already had a little talk with an old friend of us, Capitano Escobar. He will take the Turners on a honeymoon trip to Europe and is sailing tomorrow morning. So Governor Swann has one day to inform all important people about this happy event- have you heard Governor?" Scarlett turned to the old man in the armchair and instructed him with what she wanted him to do. He didn't seem too happy about his daughter leaving for Europe but at least that was better than knowing she was in the control of a pirate. "Well thanks for yer approval Governor. Now- if you don't mind gents- I'm gonna take a nap."

She settled on one side of the bed that wasn't occupied by Jack and closed her eyes. Although she was dog-tired sleep didn't come easy. There was something she hadn't told Marris and that came to her mind again now. She suddenly began to shiver what Jack misinterpreted in using the chance to share his blanket with her. Oh what a noble gesture! But then again it felt quite comforting to feel human warmth after she had seen too much insanity... it was the same moment that M'leh had drawn her back when she had gained a closer look into the room.

_She saw whirling clouds of impenetrable blackness forming a paralysing void and releasing visions of nightmares far beyond bearing. Shattered hopes and dreams gave birth to monsters when maddening voices like howling banshees splintering into blinding outbreaks of silence. It was like someone had legalized insanity to rule the world, magnifying a chaos of devastation and despair; yet there was a tempting offer of sweet whispering voices to join in. Finally she saw from the corners of her eyes the source of it all for an instant._

It was a golden chalice.


	6. 5 Of crustaceans and a storm

**thanks **again to Ellenar: many interesting questions. You'll find the answers in the next few chapters. And Santiago will be back soon... _Do we want Norrington to be saved?_ That's the best question. Well, if it's up to Rowan and her temper... guess you've already realized that she can be quite a little bitch... but in the end I'm gonna be the one to decide

**5. Of Crustaceans and a storm**

The next day was one of those that never seems to end. Everyone was bored from having to stay in the Governor's chamber for one more day and staying in one room all day long with Captain Jack Sparrow being bored wasn't much fun either. The strain increased with every hour. They had to fear that someone would betray them, that Norrington's men would find them or that Ratbone would track them down by magic. Hours went by in slow-motion but nothing happened. The Governor returned from his daily duties and said goodbye to Elisabeth without the guard being hot on his heels though he still wasn't amused about sharing his private chambers with a gang of pirates. He was even less amused when Scarlett asked him to call for Joshua only so she could make an offer to his slave that his slave accepted smiling boldly at him.

"Consider it well. You will end up at the gallows if you join these pirates and sail under a pirate's flag." the Governor warned strictly but that couldn't impress M'leh.

"Better a short life in freedom than to perish in slavery." he took off his stupid white wig and threw it at Governor Swann's feet before leaving the room with the pirates as a free man.

They snuck through Port Royal on hidden paths Will had sketched for them until they reached a quiet corner of the harbour. Scarlett took a deep breath of salty air tasting the width of the ocean and its promise of freedom when she saw Gibbs storming to a nearby boat. With a sharp whistle she called him back into line.

"Damned! This is a fishing boat. You're not going to steal the boat of a fisherman, aye?"

"Luv, it's to **commandeer** a ship- nautical term." Jack corrected her. "What kind of pirate are you?"

He shouldn't have said that as Scarlett faced him with wildly scintillating eyes." Surely not the kind who robs a poor fisherman off what he needs for his livelihood when there are plenty of dinghies around belonging to the Royal Navy. So is there any nautical term to distinguish between right and wrong? Besides, Escobar had promised to leave one of his longboats on the beach for us. So just keep your eyes open and your mouth shut."

"Hey, don't bitch at each other friends." Marris cheerfully embraced both of them in a conciliatory gesture. "We've got to stick together, aye?"

"Hmpf." Scarlett growled with a shrug.

Finally they found the longboat belonging to the Gavina and crossed over to the ship where a sailor guided them to the Captain's Cabin asking them polity to stay there until they've set sail and left Port Royal. Again they were close together in a room with nothing to do but wait though this time they were on aboard a ship and could feel the swell of the sea playing with its hull. This gentle rocking of the waves got all of them drowsy except for Jack Sparrow who sat next to Rowan Scarlett.

"Now, as we've got nothin' to do but wait again, why don't ye tell me a little story 'bout yerself startin' with why ye thanked me for killin' Barbossa?"

"Well, you knew him, aye? Do I have to explain more?" She was brief until she realized that he wouldn't be satisfied with this, so she added. "He killed my parents."

"Sorry to hear that. How did it happen?"

"It's a long story."

"Oh and we're really short of time, aye?"

Scarlett laughed.

"Now come on don't let me drag it all outta ye. In Tortuga, I've told ye a good story- so why don't ye just gimme one in return?" He didn't give up urging her to tell more.

"Ye've won." she grumbled and warned him that she wasn't a very good storyteller; nevertheless he looked at her curious. "My parents had been... well, a very strange couple indeed. He's an Irish soldier who'd been forced to join the English Navy and she's a Spanish Moor. They met when he got wounded in a war that had never been his own and got stranded on the beach of a land that was supposed to be hostile. She discovered the man washed ashore 'n as she's a good-hearted woman with great skills in healing she took him in her house and healed him. They fell in love though it's not easy being a lovin' couple when yer from two different counties that 're at war with each other. Also, they're very catholic down there in Spain 'n they mistrusted a Moor woman with great skills in healing anyway 'specially after she'd married a stranger. Soon there were rumours about witchcraft spreadin', which brought the inquisitors into the area. Now, these very much honoured 'n bloody god fearing men 'd the task to track down witches 'n execute 'em by trial of ordeal, and even if the golden age of inquisition had gone by they still liked to see women burn. Ye surely can imagine that me father didn't want to see his wife burn on a stake only for knowin' a lot 'bout herbs and how to use them for healin', for savin' his life. So he freed her from jail and they fled from this small fishin' village at Cape Finisterre to the next bigger town, Santiago de Compostela, where I was born..."

"Ah, so you've been born with the skills of healin' and breakin' someone from jail? Good hereditary factors I'd say."

"Well, well, well Captain Jack Sparrow is that yer way to actually thank me for rescuing ye?" she asked with a mockery voice.

"For pokin' me shoulder with yer dagger, for cheatin' 'n druggin' me?" he replied in the same tone looking sceptically at her ring and then at his own fingers. "Good trick though, should remember that. But now go on with yer story. What's happened then?"

"So what d' ye think did happen to a woman being sought-after by the Inquisition and who had the bad luck to be struck with a red-haired brat?"

"Nah, don't say that..." He reached out to touch her hair but she just shook her head surly.

"Stop that. Thought ye've wanted to hear a story 'n I'm not finished yet," she said with a cooler voice. She didn't really remember anymore what it had been like to move from one town to another when she was young always fleeing the inquisition until they finally reached Santander where they embarked a ship to the colonies. "I loved ships 'n the sea from the very first moment my feet touched the planks of that galleon called Estrella but unfortunately we weren't sailing under a lucky star as pirates commandeered our ship near the Bahamas. They weren't like you or me. They were a gang of the most bloodthirsty kind, the ones that murdered without consideration, plundered 'n raped. I had to watch their activities, had to watch them murder my parents... I was the only survivor 'cause the leader of this gang from hell had big plans with me. He'd be my pimp 'n I'd be his whore as he thought me bloody red hair 'd gain him a fortune. So he took me to a Tortugan brothel where the whores should raise me 'til I was old enough. Though they were really nice to me this actually wasn't what **I**'d planned to be my future. I never wanted to be the one to be decided upon but to make my own decisions so I shaved my head and ran away- straight into the arms of a Spaniard who luckily wasn't like other Spanish men... not one of this patriarchal machos who want women to keep to their traditional roles. He taught me everything I wanted to know including how to fight with a sword and how to sail a ship; he even build the Jewel Star for me. I owe him a lot. His name's Santiago."

If she had expected him to jump on that name she'd been wrong. He looked at her with honest sympathy but didn't react to the name of Santiago, and that puzzled her.

"Well you're not that bad in story-telling..."

She repeated Santiago's name once again and then added how Mr.Gibbs had called him. "Don Miguel."

Still there was no reaction concerning this only a clumsy attempt to do what- comfort her? Or was he just misusing the situation to touch her, to stroke her hair? He was much too close now looking at her with his dark brown eyes that she thought at once he'd try again to kiss her again and she didn't know how she would have reacted to it.

Suddenly there was a loud bang followed by two further and the moment was gone. A last salute of farewell to Elisabeth who was sailing to Europe or so the Governor still believed. Minutes later she arrived at the Captain's cabin with Will and cheerfully greeted the pirates who were all wide-awake now. The anchor was weighted and the Gavina slowly gained speed.

After all had greeted each other and settled down again a sleepy atmosphere arose once more as the ship sailed through calm waters. Yet Scarlett was restless. She looked at Jack Sparrow and impatiently elbowed his rips.

"Come on, you must know him as he knows you."

"Who?"

"Santiago- or Don Miguel."

Well there was some sort of fleeing memory from long ago flashing through his head but he couldn't capture it to make any sense so he just shrugged. "Sorry luv. Many people know me as I'm Captain Jack Sparrow but I can't remember all I've ever offended."

Her eyes narrowed. She just couldn't stand him when he was so full of himself and she immediately forgot what she nearly had been about to do before the canons were fired for salute. A little later Capitano Escobar arrived in the cabin.

"We're approaching Yallah bay soon, Captain Scarlett, so if you would please be so kind to show up on deck. I presume they won't be firing a broadside at us if they see your remarkable hair shining in the sun."

"Si Capitano, seguramente."

They walked up the companionway to the afterdeck followed by Jack. She turned to cast him a mocking glance. "What's the matter with you? D' ye wanna let your hair be shining in the sunlight as well?"

He just smirked and walked to the rail, overlooking the sea. She watched him for a moment before she understood how it must have been like for him to be locked up in cell or a room or even in the cabin here, as she would have felt the same. Escobar gave her the same suspecting gaze like Elisabeth had done in Port Royal, trying to impute her motives for rescuing Jack a romantic meaning. She didn't go into it.

"Well Capitano, once again thanks are in order and I really owe you a great deal; we all do. In the Turners luggage you'll find a few bottles of the finest Jamaican rum that can be sold at a quite nice price on the Spanish market- or you retire and drink it all by yourself."

"Muchas gracias, muy amable Señora Capitano. So am I right to assume that the Turners are not going to sail to Europe aboard the Gavina?"

Scarlett grinned at him cheekily. "No, they're gonna spend their honeymoon in Tortuga- they only don't know it yet. Now, would you like to tell it to them or shall rather I do it?"

"A gentleman always lets the lady go first." he answered politely but indicated that she'd made her bed and must lie on it now. She hadn't expected it to be any other way- on the other hand...

"Captain Sparrow, please be so kind as to inform the Turners that we're leaving this ship soon and crossing to the Jewel."

Jack should have known better and been warned because, as a rule, if she spoke so nicely it wasn't wise to trust her. Of course neither Will nor Elisabeth were acquainted with the fact that they weren't going to Europe but fortunately Will's annoyance didn't focus on him as the whelp was smart enough to notice which way the wind was blowing.

"Where is that red pirate-witch going to take us?" he asked Marris furiously but the blonde haired pirate just smiled him without being impressed and said only one word. "Tortuga."

"Ah ye should appreciate that, whelp. Tortuga- the most promisin' island in the whole Caribbean."

Will couldn't understand what Jack was raving about as he only remembered dirty streets crowded with filthy, drunken, cursing and fighting people, mainly lawless villains and whores. Well that might sound tempting to a pirate but it certainly wasn't a place where he wanted Elisabeth to be. He left Jack behind and rushed to find Rowan Scarlett. She could be in a crowd of people yet she'd strike attention with her flaming mane.

"You! I won't allow you to put my wife into danger!"

"Oh we're back to this topic again." Scarlett sighed, suddenly feeling quite fed up with all of it. She simply climbed over the rail and down the ladder to the longboat that has been sent from the Jewel, only wanting to go home.

"How did you get the idea to take Elisabeth to Tortuga?"

"To avoid anything happening to her."

"But this is not a suitable place for a lady to be."

Scarlett didn't answer and even didn't care anymore if anyone else besides Marris followed her to the longboat. She saw Jack talking to Will but couldn't hear what he said; anyway he must have found the right words to convince his friend to climb down the bloody ladder and into the boat. Finally they were ready to put out.

"You'll see that Tortuga isn't as bad if you stay away from the harbour." Marris tried to cheer up Will with his imperturbable good mood and he seemed to be successful. At least the young man didn't look that grisly anymore but managed a restrained smile.

"Well, it's just not the place I'd chosen for honeymoon." he admitted.

"The hinterland's really nice actually. There are green, softly curved ranges of hills with plantations, nice estates of well-off planters and some hidden bays with beautiful beaches where you can go swimming." Scarlett had just finished when she remembered that it probably wasn't proper for a lady like Elisabeth to go swimming in hidden bays, no matter how beautiful the beaches are. It came to her mind that it must be dreadfully boring to be tortured with all the do's and don'ts of high society, always considering what's decent or what impression you'd leave. So it was much better being a pirate and not giving a shit about decorum to have the ability to enjoy the beauty of hidden beaches and crystal-clear water. She was still deep in thoughts when Will addressed her.

"How long do we have to stay there and when are we sailing to Shanghai?"

She shook her head in confusion. It occurred to her that he'd just said _when are we sailing to Shanghai?_ - but this couldn't be as no one had ever talked about that. None? She looked at Jack who had squeezed himself next to her at the bow of the boat. He smirked. Now she got it straight how he'd persuaded Will. Well, well she'd taken him for a ride a couple of times and now it was payback-time.

"C'mon luv don't be irritated." he said but she'd already jumped to her feet which caused the boat to rock dangerously. "Hey, d' ye want us to sink?"

"No, I'd only like to drown you." She sat down again and resisted the urge to really do so.

"But what's wrong with the idea that we're sailing to Shanghai and search Will's father?"

"Oh, there's nothing wrong with searchin' Will's father- it's the '**we**' I've problems with. You can do whatever ye wanna but I'd prefer not being integrated." The hull of the Jewel Star rose in front of her like a huge cliff now and reminded her that there was something else she had to clarify with Jack. "By the way, this is my ship and **I'm** the Captain. Ye'd better bear that in mind, keep quiet and call me Captain instead of luv. And that's Captain's order, savvy? "

"Yer wish's my command, luv... um, **Captain** Scarlett." he said with exaggerated courtesy and a broad, golden gleaming smile. While she ignored him waving a last good-bye to the Gavina and its Captain Escobar, Jack Sparrow climbed up the ladder and unexpectedly faced a pair of snapping blue claws that belonged to an angry crustacean. He tried to get out of the way swaying a bit too much in his attempt to do so and nearly fell over the rail. It was Scarlett who helped him by giving him a push in the back.

"I've said **I**'d like to drown you- no need to do it yerself."

"Yer too kind." Jack gasped with clenched teeth, feeling a painful heat shooting up his back that nearly made him scream but he only went quite pale for a moment.

At once it occurred to her that she might have treated him too roughly. She didn't ask him if he was all right as he wouldn't have told her anyway; she just ordered Marris to assign beds to all their guests.

"Ah Maharani Scarlett brings guests. Very good. Rashid makes food for all, very good. Look! Isn't it a beauty!" A dark-skinned man with shaved head welcomed Captain Scarlett waving a blue crab in one hand and proudly pointing to a bucket with even more crustaceans. "What you think, eh? Cangrejos con pineapple 'n curry?"

"Sounds tempting."

"Riquíssimo!" he promised, making a gesture of total delight and then turned to Jack Sparrow for further confirmation while holding the still snapping crawfish straight in front of his nose. Again Jack made an attempt to retreat, maybe fearing for his nose. Rashid just laughed. "Don't worry. Really delicious with curry. You taste tonight."

Jack bared his teeth instead of smiling and staggered away to inspect the ship he was on, wondering how long it would take the crew to finally weigh anchor and set sails. Well, if it had been his ship he'd already barked orders. Actually, it was hard for him not to do so as he'd never been guest on a ship before- either he'd commanded or commandeered it.

He watched Scarlett being welcomed by her crew. They seemed to be quite fond of her but that was no basis to run a ship as respect was needed as well, so it really surprised him that she only had to whistle sharply and everyone was back on his position. There was no shouting or neither yelling nor barking orders- a whistle from her was enough to start hectic activities on deck. The crew was a perfectly united team that really worked hand in hand that's why the Jewel Star left the bay much sooner than he'd ever thought.

"The rigging's some sort of new-fashioned, these blocks 'n tackles 're much easier to handle, ye know." Marris came up to him smiling like he always did as if nothing could ever trouble him. "Well, guess ye'd fancy havin' a closer look at the Jewel before I show ye where ye can rest, aye? Mind ye if I'll show ye round? Oh, and it's not to keep an eye on you or something like this, savvy. I can leave ye alone as well if ye wanna, no problem with that.."

During the first few hours of their voyage back to Tortuga conditions couldn't have been better; there was a fresh wind blowing, filling the canvas with a crackling sound. Scarlett ordered to brace the sails fully and the Jewel Star nearly seemed to fly across the waves. But late afternoon the wind decreased more and more that they had to set some additional staysails to keep going. It was then when Scarlett decided to change course and sail south round Hispaniola instead of sailing the Windward Passage though this route would take longer. However, it occurred to her that it would be the safer way in case someone followed them and she was quite sure that Norrington would try to track them down.

At dusk, a bell rang for diner. Marris rushed to take over the helm, as he knew damn well how offended Rashid could feel if the Captain herself was not one of the first to enjoy his meal.

CaptainScarlett already sat at a table with Will and Elisabeth when Jack entered the mess. Having expected a plain, functional set up room like on all other ships he was surprised now that this one nearly had the same atmosphere of a good tavern; there were oriental lamps on the walls spreading a cosy light. Also the food was not of the quality you usually get on a pirate ship. It smelled like exotic spices that reminded him of Singapore. A sizzling pan was placed on the table and he saw his old friend- the evil snapping crustacean- swimming with others in a creamy, yellowish sauce.

While he greedily stuffed down everything he was served, Will obviously had some problems with unfamiliar hot spices. His face turned red and his eyes filled with tears. Jack tapped the younger man's shoulder sympathetically.

"'t happens if ye've not been to Singapore, whelp."

"Madras." Rashid corrected. "Me I'm from Madras."

Singapore or Madras didn't change anything for Will and he already had doubts about sailing to Asia to search for his father as he would have burned his insides out before he'd even got there.

"Me I was personal chef of Maharaja of Madras." Rashid continued and though he spat out on the floor to make clear what he thought about the Maharaja, Elisabeth looked at him with confusion.

"You've had a decent profession and you're surely a great cook- so why did you become a pirate?"

"To keep me balls."

Jack gasped, Will turned even redder if possible and most of the pirates burst into laughter when Elisabeth politely asked. "Pardon?"

Rashid wanted to make a gesture to underline his words but Scarlett kept him from doing so. "Stop it! She's a fine lady." She turned to Elisabeth to explain. "Rashid was personal chef of the Maharaja when he was offered a promotion. He should be honoured and become cook for the Maharaja's wives as well, and this special honour he wasn't allowed to turn down. Problem's only that all who're serving the Maharanis had to be eunuchs and he didn't want to be one. That's why he escaped, looking for a ship to take him away before the Maharaja found out and that's how we met."

"'n me I'm still complete." Rashid grasped between his legs and weighed his private parts with an overjoyed smile in his face.

"Oh, I see." whispered Elisabeth embarrassed and a bit stunned from talk that shouldn't be meant for decent ladies' ears. Will wasn't very happy with the situation as well.

"Darling, we'd better leave now and go to bed." he said softly and surely without the intention to give suggestions but of course the pirates burst into laughter once again; one shouted:

"Guess he wants to find out if he's still complete!"

Though it was only good-natured teasing the Turners hastily left the mess and shortly afterwards Scarlett went back to the helm to navigate the Jewel Star safely through the night.

-

Jack woke at dawn, or at least he thought it should be dawn by now though it was still dark outside. He shot a look out of the window, realizing that the sky was covered with dark, deep-hanging clouds that passed by like fog-patches and there was an eerie greenish glow at the horizon. He heard hasting footsteps of pirates trying to secure things, extinguish every candle and close all hatches. It was evident that a storm was about to break loose.

A hectic voice gave orders to Will and Elisabeth in the neighbouring cabin to stay inside and not to show up on deck **no matter what happens**. Of course that wasn't meant for him as he was Captain Jack Sparrow and might give a helping hand, as he was experienced with storms.

The ship had already begun to roll in the waves and the clouds opened up, rain was pouring down when he walked up the companions way. Within seconds he was soaking wet. He didn't mind; he liked to struggle with the powers of nature and the surge of adrenalin that ran through his veins. But who still had some sails set at the beginning of a one menacing inferno must be an adrenalin-junkie. He couldn't believe his eyes. Though halliards, clew lines or braces were coiled and secured the sails were only reefed a little.

Jack staggered to the afterdeck. Captain Scarlett stood at the helm and seemed to enjoy it; her eyes flashed green sparks though the darkness. He waved his arms to attract her attention.

"Luv, ye've gotta drop canvas." he shouted but she just laughed at him.

"Why? Would ye if ye'd be aboard the Pearl now?"

No. She was right- somehow. The storm wasn't that heavy yet and he'd gone through worse ones but she'd forgotten one very important thing. He was Captain Jack Sparrow and this wasn't the Pearl as he told her.

"Aye! That's why I'm not droppin' canvas. The Jewel can stand a bit longer."

"Yer mad!"

"Well, that's what people say bout you." She grinned, holding the helm firmly in her hands and yet steering the Jewel with great care.

He watched her for a moment and then changed his mind. She wasn't that mad at all, in fact she did a damned good job at the helm. She knew exactly what she was doing. She knew the sea and the wind and her ship, and she handled everything very skilful. He decided not to interfere any longer, as his help wasn't required anyway, so he only watched her for a while.

The storm got worse. There was the sound of thunder in the distance and lightning flashed up, the wind increased. Just at the same time, as he would have done so she was willing to give order to strike sails.

Soon after that the thunder got deafening and the lightning nearly blinding. The sea was like a seething cauldron of white-foaming water, waves splashed over the deck and the ship rocked quite heavily though it never heeled hard over. After all it was still fun but this ended when lightning stroke the top of the mizzen mast. A nasty crack of wood was to be heard.

"Fuck!" Scarlett looked up. Some flames flickered over the tied gaff-topsail but extinguished immediately due to the heavy rain. Nevertheless, this was a serious problem because if the mast would come loose uncontrolled it could cause a lot of damage to the entire rigging. She had to hurry up.

"Take over the helm." she shouted to Jack and climbed into the shrouds.

_She's mad_, he thought again, _mad but damned courageous._ He hardly knew any man- let alone any woman- who'd had the nerve to climb up a mast in the midst of a raging inferno. She did it and he would have done so as well to avoid further damage. He looked up. She had already reached the mizzen crosstrees and started to cut off the top of the mast as well as parts of the rigging before it could crash down. Watching her, quite impressed, he forgot to concentrate on the helm, so the ship shifted at bit and the next wave rocked it hard. A boarding-axe fell from up above hitting the planks only a few inches away from his feet, followed by a very nasty curse. He gasped, cursed himself for not being concentrating and tried to steady the Jewel before he dared to look up again to see how Scarlett was doing. It frightened him that she was swinging dangerously to and fro on a rope right above the outraged sea, but luckily she managed to get back onto the mast soon, struggling to recover her balance. He was really relieved when she finally returned to the helm safe.

"Phew, 't was quite a thrill." she said panting for breath. Then she looked at him with eyes that glittered full of wild triumph instead of anger as he had expected, and laughed about the worried expression in his face. Pushing him away she took the helm again. "Well Captain Sparrow ye see it's not easy to keep the Jewel steady as she needs more careful hands to steer her, savvy?"

"Aye, Captain." Jack faked a smile though he was reluctant that he got away with this reminder. He had already realized that the Jewel won't allow any inobservances as she reacted more efficiently to the touch of the helm as any other ship and that's why he wished he could've steered her a little bit longer. It was interesting to be on a ship that could nearly match his beloved Black Pearl and to become familiar with its peculiarities.

The storm increased even more and the sea was white with spray that glowed ghostly in the lightning. It was getting harder with every minute to keep the Jewel from being tossed about by the swells as the waves had become dangerously high. That was without doubt the worst thunderstorm Scarlett had ever experienced and it even occurred to her that not only the powers of nature were playing an evil game with her but also that there was more behind.

"What d'ye think Jack- can weather be influenced by magic?"

"I've seen pirates turn skeletons in moonlight...guess ev'rything's possible." he shouted against the wind that was howling as furiously as a mad banshee.

She nodded to confirm that she got his words when a wave crashed over their heads. They quickly steadied themselves with a rope to keep from being washed overboard. Jack shook himself. "Land's close.... we should drop anchor in a bay." he suggested but Scarlett apparently didn't like the idea, as she turned the wheel with full force to the opposite direction.

"No way! Land's at windward side, we'll crash if we'd try!"

She was right. There was no way to call at land, as this part of the Hispaniolan coast was full of rocks, riffs and dangerous shallows. They would run aground if they tried. On the other hand they could only try to stand the storm as long as possible before a wave would swallow the Jewel. So there weren't really any alternatives unless the storm would let up which was rather unlikely at the moment.

"Help me!" Scarlett yelled when the powers of nature got too strong for her to handle the helm all by herself and Jack willingly rushed for help. Together they manoeuvred the Jewel through the storm, avoiding the strong current that wanted to drag the ship to the coast and navigating it to the open sea again. This way they fought the storm for nearly an hour when suddenly there was something like the light at the end of the tunnel. The clouds broke up a little and a glimpse of daylight was to be seen. The same time the wind decreased and at once there was a silence that was frightening in some way as it was abnormal. With eyes wide open she looked at Jack Sparrow.

"What's that?"

"No idea, luv." he whispered as if he feared any loud word could bring the storm back.

They stood together and listened. Nothing was to be heard except for the usual noises of a ship, the creaking of the planks, the rattling of the rigging, the splashing of the waves swirling about the hull. Then the wind rose again and intensified these noises, and the clouds broke up even more. Now, at the end of a day that had almost been as dark as the night, the last sunbeams painted the sky with an absurd abundance of colours.

Some pirates came up the companions way and looked around. They gave the impression that they had almost accepted their fate to go to Davy Jones' locker and couldn't believe that they're still alive.

"Praise the Captain!" someone shouted and others joined in. "She's saved us all!"

Scarlett didn't liked this sort of worshipping so she quickly let Marris take the helm since he who was the first to reach her at the afterdeck, but she knew that Jack loved being the centre of attraction.

"Praise Captain Jack Sparrow, mates. I wouldn't have done it without his help."

While Sparrow was willingly spinning a yarn about their adventures during the storm, Scarlett secretly slipped away to her cabin. She was soaked to the bones, dog-tired and yet filled with an energy that wouldn't let her rest just now. Fortunately a good soul had already placed a bottle of wine on her table and lit some candles, so she only had to take off her wet clothes to make herself comfortable. She had just wrapped a blue sarong with coloured butterflies around her body when Jack entered the room.

"Bloody hell! What's got into ye? Can't ye knock?" she snapped at him.

"Oh." he was taken aback a little but that didn't keep him from eying her. _Nice sight_, he thought.

"Now what d' ye want?"

"Lookin' for a place to sleep."

"Here?"

"Aye. Well, actually it's yer first mate who'd assigned beds and as I'm Captain Jack Sparrow he must have chosen the Captain's cabin's for me. He's a good man."

"He's a dead man soon." Scarlett mumbled to herself, wondering if Jack had already snooped around her cabin before realizing that he must have slept in her bed. She raised her voice again. "Hope ye slept well."

"Very well. Thanks for asking, luv."

She rolled her eyes but then it came to her that there was no use becoming offensive after he'd helped her steer the Jewel through that storm. She sighed. "Well, now that yer 'ere anyway, ye can make yerself useful 'n open the bottle instead of staring at me. Never seen a woman wearing a sarong?"

Scarlett towelled her hair and tossed her head to let it swing down her back like cascades of red wine. Jack couldn't help staring at her while uncorking the bottle because that sarong was more like a piece of cloth wrapped around her body in a slapdash fashion, revealing lots of golden-tanned skin.

"At least never one with red-wine-hair." He raised the bottle and sat down on the bed. "And that'll be wine as well, aye?"

"Aye, it's a Rioja gran reserva." _...and actually much too precious to be shared with someone who won't appreciate it anyway._

"So, let's have some wine before we go to bed."

She decided to ignore this remark as she certainly wouldn't go to bed with him- or would she? Well, with the storm still raging in her blood she was quite susceptible to an attractive body and these dark brown, khol-rimmed eyes that gave his look so much intensity. Actually she was just in the right mood for a little tussle between the sheets... to cut it short, she wanted a man and he happened to be there.

"Well, Captain Jack Sparrow, I've to thank ye. I surely couldn't have handled the Jewel without yer help."

"Nah, don't say that, luv. Yer actually quite good with nautical things. Although- if ye really wanna thank me, well..." He fell silent and smirked, alluding to the conversation they had in Tortuga.

"Oh, I know exactly what you mean." she said with a sweet smile on her lips, yet he was quite stunned that she came up to him. Still smiling she sat down on his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him softly. As she had expected he returned her kiss at once, taking the chance to push his tongue boldly into her mouth and explored her intensely. Now, that was a promising start. Her sarong to came undone and soon everything took its course the way **she** wanted it. Nevertheless **he** still believed that Captain Jack Sparrow was just irresistible and that every woman would fall for him gradually, in time. Of course it never came to him that he might have been wrong about that.


	7. 6 Alf

**6. Alf**

Scarlett woke just after sunrise and realized immediately that something was wrong this morning. She wasn't alone in her bed. Soon the memories of the previous night came flooding back into her brain. _Oh shit_, she thought, _the bloody storm_. Carefully she tried to untangle her limbs from Jack's embrace without waking him but luckily he was fast asleep.

_Damned, why do I always have to go and make things complicated?_ she asked herself while dressing quickly in some comfortable cloths, a wide shirt and baggy trousers that were rolled up to her knees. She was just about to leave her cabin when there was a knock at the door. Opening it swiftly she faced young Will Turner's worried face.

"What's up, mate?" she asked as politely as she was able to so early in the morning, and that wasn't very much.

"Oh... um... sorry for disturbing you Miss- um, **Captain** Scarlett I was going to say..." Will seemed to be uncertain how to handle this situation before he came up with his worries. "It's my wife, Elisabeth. She's sick."

"Sorry to hear that." Scarlett quickly closed the door behind her, not wanting him to see the mess in her cabin. She shrugged. "Well, there was quite a heavy storm last night so she's probably seasick, lad. Don't worry 'bout that. It'll pass as soon as we've reached Tortuga "

"My wife's definitely not seasick. I know her; she never gets seasick. Besides, the storm's long gone by."

"Oh, really? Thanks for reminding me." she said sarcastically while making her way to the galley. Will was close on her heels like a dog- _does Jack call him 'whelp' for that reason?_ she wondered.

"Wait! This is presumably something worse. You know a great deal about healing as you've healed Jack, so please go and have a look at her."

Now, this was funny. She'd only managed to dig a bullet outta Jack's shoulder and suddenly she was a master of medicine? Well, actually she had no idea about the skills of healing.

"Hey lad, lemme have a sip of tea 'n a good look at me ship first before I'll look after yer wife, aye?" she told him when they entered the mess, where Rashid eagerly handed a mug of tea to his Captain. She nodded thankfully and drank her tea.

Will became furious. "I've should have known better. You're a typical pirate- caring more about your ship than a person's life."

"Nah, not say that." Rashid interfered. "Me Maharani is good Capitano, good pirate. Cares muchas about crew, so you shut up. Silencio, savvy? No talk to her early in the morning before first cup of tea."

Scarlett emptied her mug, handed it to Rashid for a refill, and smiled a little. _He's such a good soul_, she thought as Will actually fell silent for a while. With the mug in one hand she went up the companions way to the deck and looked up the masts. All sails were set, flapping lively in the breeze. She should have checked them, as well as she should have checked the hull for leaks after the storm, but she shouldn't have gone straight to her cabin. She got a little nervous and then she had to tell herself to calm down again. Everything was okay. The crew would have locked her in her cabin if she'd started an inspection of the Jewel right after she'd manoeuvred her ship through the storm; there had been heated discussions about this before. A captain should **command** a ship and not trying to do everything by herself, her crew had once decided. Therefore she knew that everything was ship shape, yet she had to go and question Marris. In addition, she still had a bone to pick with him...

"So, your ship looks okay to me. Now, would you please come with me and have a look at my wife?" Will plagued her again.

As she had no greater knowledge of healing than the first time he'd asked her, she just sighed. But one thing she knew for sure. "Lad, if yer wife 'd be feverish, throwing up blood or be bleeding to death you'd stormed me cabin instead if knocking politely, so it can't be that bad. Also, if she'd do so there'd be nothing I could do 'bout it. Better wait 'til we've reached Tortuga and consult Santiago. I promise, she won't die within the next few hours."

They had entered the afterdeck. Marris was in charge of the helm and greeted them joyfully, flashing a cheeky smile at Scarlett.

"'ello, my dearest Captain- you'll be pleased to hear that Peter's already repaired the mizzen mast and as far as I'm informed that's the only damage been done by the storm. Needless to say ye did an excellent job, as usual. By the way, did ye have a pleasant night?"

She really had to get a grip on herself not to beat him while Will was watching because the whelp didn't have to know what Marris apparently knew, due to that suggestive look he gave her. Luckily she saw a man passing by and stopped him.

"Peter! It's so good to see ye. I want to introduce you to someone. This is Bootstraps Bill's son, young Will Turner. Maybe ye'll tell him a bit 'bout his father and how awful it's to become a pirate."

"But Captain, it's not awful at all. Though I'm still suffering from acrophobia, you and Santiago have been very patient with me and encouraged me to discover my talents."

He was right; he was still too scared to climb the rigging, but he had gifted hands working with wood so he had become the Jewel's carpenter by now. Peter gave Will a warm-hearted glance.

"I'm so glad to meet you as your father told me a lot about you and he really is a hero to me. Do you know what he'd risked..."

Peter's voice faded as he walked away with Will, both being engrossed in their talk. Scarlett watched them disappear to the main deck before she turned to Marris again.

"Bloody hell, why did ye have to accommodate Sparrow in **my **cabin?"

"Thought ye'd liked it." he joked but then he got serious after recognizing that she wasn't in the mood for his jokes. He tried to defend his doings. "Well, actually there was no other bed left. I've given Santiago's cabin to the lovely honeymoon couple and I couldn't have let him sleep with the crew as he's Captain Jack Sparrow. So what? Ye don't sleep in your cabin that often anyway as ye prefer the jig's net and..."

"Not after a storm!" she interrupted with great intensity but he just kept on smiling.

"Ah, but then ye're in a very- well, let's say **special**- mood. Come on, I know ye. Ye could have chucked him easily if ye'd wanted it, but apparently ye didn't." He reached out to stroke her cheek, something, which only he was allowed to do. "Now, Rowan, don't blame me for messing up things; you're quite good at doing that on yer own."

"Okay, it's my mistake." she sighed, still not very happy with the situation.

"Was it really that bad?"

"Ye don't expect me to go into details, d'ye?" She looked at him with a stern expression in her face that was in a strange contradiction with her ambiguously sparkling green eyes. Of course he wanted to know some details but she wasn't willing to tell more and only elbowed him. Marris put an arm around her shoulder to hug her.

"So we better keep it to ourselves, aye?"

She agreed laughing and returned his hug, as it was impossible to be angry with him; they were just too close.

At that moment Captain Jack Sparrow appeared on deck being in a splendid mood. He swaggered up the stairs to the afterdeck with casualness as if the world would be his own- or at last the Jewel. When Scarlett saw him coming up to her so full of himself, she immediately regretted what had happened last night. Although he was anything but a lousy lover, he shouldn't go getting any big ideas just because of this little success. After all, he wasn't that irresistible and she hadn't fallen helplessly in love with him; nothing had changed between them. So it was time to put him in his place again.

"Captain Sparrow, ye'll be pleased to hear that we're reaching Tortuga in an hour or so." she informed him with cool politeness before he could come any closer.

The words 'hello luv' just froze on his lips and he stood rooted to the spot, gazing at her with raised eyebrows. She had figuratively slapped his face and he really didn't know what for, though he was quite sure that this time he didn't deserve it at all. He indicated an exaggerated bow, as it was just his typical manner, yet he still seemed a little bit crossed. "Can't wait to get aboard my Pearl again, Captain Scarlett."

Marris shook his head slightly while watching both of them.

-

An hour later the Jewel was entering the harbour of Tortuga and anchored next to the Black Pearl, which was lying at the docks. Jack Sparrow couldn't wait to get back on his own ship again, to feel the familiar planks under his feet. He was expected by Anamaria who gave him a very special welcome. Scarlett couldn't hear what she was saying but she raised her hand to slap his face before hugging and kissing him in great relief. So, everything was back to normal.

That was before she saw Santiago walking up the companions way of the Pearl to face Jack and the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow turned as pale as if he'd seen a ghost- or at least met some unwanted memories that were hidden somewhere deep inside of him.

"Alf?" he gasped. "What 're ye doin' on my ship?"

"You're as ungrateful as ever, lad. Not a word of thanks for repairing the Pearl. You always take what you can but give nothing back."

"Pirate!" Jack smirked, but he didn't really sound like being his typical self. He was still much too perplex.

Scarlett came closer as she was interested why Santiago got away with calling Jack Sparrow 'lad' instead of 'Captain', and why Jack had called Santiago 'Alf'.

"Why's he calling ye Alf?"

"Because his little brain was overtaxed with my full name, Miguel Alfonso de Santiago, how I introduced myself when we first met, many years ago. As I said, nothing much has changed." Santiago's voice was strangely cool, almost chilly, but that changed when he looked at Scarlett. His eyes lit up and he gave her a very warm embrace. "Ah, I'm so glad you returned safe, my dear. You've got to tell me everything."

"She's quiet a smart 'n tough lass, mate, a bit too hot tempered sometimes but she's really doing well." Jack dared to say while shooting an ambiguous glance at Rowan who tried not to blush. _Bloody_ _bastard_, she thought. Luckily Santiago didn't notice that as the mere presence of Jack Sparrow was enough to make his blood boil, so there was no use to make him boil over. Nevertheless she still wondered what had been between Santiago and Jack, as she's never seen her foster father in a mood like this. He probably would kill the pirate if he'd ever found out what happened last night, no matter that it had been **she** who started it, and that's why she really hoped that Jack would stop making any further, ambiguous comments. Or was it only she who thought them ambiguous?

"Ha, do you really think you're able to judge my girl?" Santiago snorted scornfully. "You, who can't even distinguish between the scum you usually love to surround yourself and decent people? Ah, just shut up and get out of my sight!"

"Oh, I'd really love to but unfortunately yer still aboard **my** ship, so even if I gave the orders to weigh anchor and set all sails, that wouldn't solve our little problem, aye?" Jack replied sarcastically and - apparently recovered from his first shock of seeing Santiago again- was now back to his typical manner again.

"By the way, what **is** this little problem between the two of you?" Scarlett was curious to find out yet she already knew that she would hear two different truths- or maybe half-truths.

"Well, I'd say it's some sort of difficult father-son-relationship that would've never worked as he's not my father and I'm not his son..." Jack began but he was cut off by Santiago.

"That's an easy way to describe it, lad. However, fact is that he's unable to respect anybody but himself. He lacks discipline, is determined to get his own way regardless as well as he likes to offend people who mean well with him. Instead of accepting a critically comment, he'd rather surround himself with scum that says want he wants to hear- and then they betray him. Nevertheless he's not willing to learn anything from that but prefers to make his mistakes over again. Oh, I wished I could have stopped Rowan from risking her life to safe yours. Maybe the rope around your neck would have taught you better."

"Come on, Santiago, I really can't believe ye're sayin' this! Don't tell me it's wrong to spring a man from jail when the bloody Royal Navy was torturing him before he's going to have his appointment with the hangman. That just isn't right."

"See what I mean, lad? My dearest Rowan does know how to distinguish between right or wrong although she tends to overshoot the mark if it's about a ne'er-do-well like you."

Now Scarlett was really embarrassed. Though she liked to get an approval from time to time she certainly didn't liked to be praised to the skies if someone else was torn off a strip at the same time. Yet unfortunately she didn't know how to defend Jack without leaving the impression she could have fallen for him. Once again she regretted last night's activities as they only complicated things. Luckily a little angle with Elisabeth's beautifully face appeared on deck of the Jewel just at the right moment to save her from doing anything stupid. Elisabeth looked absolutely stunning to all men including Santiago who hurried to welcome her very politely.

"Mrs. Turner, I've already heard so much about your beauty but even the most vivid stories can't match with the vision before me. I'm really delighted to meet you and I'm overjoyed that Captain Rowan Scarlett could persuade you to visit me in Tortuga. Therefore I've already sent for the carriage so that none of the mob by the docks will bother you."

Speechlessly Scarlett watched them exchanging even more courtesies. Apparently Elisabeth wasn't as sick as her husband has thought- maybe it was just some sort of early morning indisposition that could even happen to the finest women when they're married... That didn't surprise her, but it was Santiago's behaviour. He hadn't left out any opportunity to criticise Jack in a slashing way yet there was something in his eyes that only she could see as she had known him nearly her whole life. It had been there when she had set sails to rescue Jack and it was still there, somehow. He couldn't fool her. He liked Jack as much as he despised him- or was it the other way round? However, he didn't want to let him go now, no matter if he'd told him to get out of his sight just a few minutes ago.

"Come on, into the carriage with you, you little creep." Santiago shouted to Jack, and Scarlett was astounded that Captain Jack Sparrow obeyed at once though Anamaria tried to hold him back.

"Captain! You don't really intend to go with **them**?" The way she pronounced the last word it sounded like an insult.

He rolled his eyes, looking at the sky and then back to her, dramatically waving his hands before they finally rested in a pleading gesture. "Luv, it'll be far worse not to go with them. Besides, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow!"

-

Since a carriage drawn by four horses couldn't possibly pass the small alley of Tortuga's old town, they had to make a detour around the whole town to get to Santiago's house. First their road led to the north and they followed the shoreline for a mile or so until the horses turned west, trotting into the countryside. Tortuga was very mountainous in the northern part of the island, yet here in the south there were only softly rolling ranges of hills covered with green forest alternating with plantations. Tobacco grew here, sugar cane and fruits.

Will and Elisabeth looked out of the window for a while, comforted with the sight. So not all of Tortuga was dirty, rotten pirate's nest and the nature of this island actually resembled Jamaica. Will was also relieved that they'd found such a friendly and cultivated gentleman like Santiago as a host. It was a pity that he didn't keep their company in the cabin of the carriage as he would have talked to him. Santiago had been the last one to see his father, it had been him who took Bootstrap Bill Turner to a Buddhist monastery somewhere near Saigon, and he wanted to know everything about it. At once, if possible. On the other hand he could wait, as he's nearly waited a lifetime to find out anything about his father. Also it really might have been better that Santiago had taken his seat outside next to the coachman because inside the atmosphere was already tense enough even without him. He tried to ignore this and was happy that Elisabeth sleepily snuggled her head against his shoulder.

The sun was high in on the sky now and it was getting warmer in the carriage, the soft rumbling got all of them a bit drowsy. Scarlett realized that her eyelids got heavier with every minute. Did Santiago chose a longer road to his house? She remembered his house clearly; it was a two-story building situated on a hill overlooking Tortuga's harbour. It was of Spanish style like many other houses in the older parts of the town still were, and it had a shady courtyard with a fountain. She could almost smell the scent of the jasmine and oleander bushes growing there when she suddenly felt transported back in time... she was a little girl again and saw this house for the first time after Santiago had picked her up from the dirty streets of Tortuga...

..._it was a different world, only a few blocks away from the one she used to know. No comparison to the dock area where debauchery was the agenda and were filthy, stinking pirates ruled. She was impressed- nevertheless she didn't trust the man who'd brought her here. Though he wasn't one of these filthy pirates like Barbossa or the ones who visited the brothel were she had been raised, she was cautious. Simply because he was a man. No matter how neatly he was dressed. Like a fine Spanish Don...like the ones who have accused her mother being a witch. Oh, she already knew how men could be. If they didn't intend to thrash a woman and rape her, they liked to see her burn for being a witch, no matter if witchcraft existed or not._

_"I suppose you're hungry." The man said with a gentle voice, but then he made the mistake of putting a hand on her shoulder, of touching her. She whirled around to threaten him with a dagger she'd just nicked from him._

_"Lay yer fingers on me again 'n I'll chop 'em off 'n eat 'em."_

_"Excuse me, missy. I didn't mean to offend you."_

_"Then don't call me missy, me name's Rowan." she snapped._

_"Ah, the red one." He looked at her for quite a long time and managed not to laugh at her though she knew she looked ridiculous with her badly shaved head as there were still some strands sticking out. "Well, Rowan, you're a very hot-tempered young girl and you've already proved as a pickpocket- it looks to me that you possibly wouldn't intend to become a fine, decent lady one day. Am I right?"_

_"Damn right, mate." she stressed. "Being a lady's boring. They sit in their fine houses doing needlework all day. I'd rather learn how to use a sword." _

_"To do what?"_

_"To kill Barbossa."_

_"Oh." He would have laughed at any other little girl of eight years who'd said that, but there was so much determination in her big, sparkling green eyes that it was better not to misjudge her. "But is this all you want of life? Revenge?"_

_He's a funny guy, she thought, asking a girl what she wanted of life. Though still being very young she had already realized that this was a men's world where women had to obey and stay quiet. Now, wouldn't it be a challenge to turn the world upside down? After all, this weird Spaniard had asked her a question and she was bold enough to answer it freely._

_"No. I wanna be a pirate captain on me own ship- though I don't like pirates actually. But I like ships and the sea, and I wanna sail the world. I wanna break all these bloody laws 'bout what a woman's s'pposed to do 'n what not. I wanna set up me own rules. I wanna learn how to use a sword - can ye teach me how to fight with a sword?"_

_"Aye, I can teach you that. Actually I'm quite good with a sword."_

_From the look she gave him it wasn't to be ruled out that she would have turned around and decided to leave if his answer hadn't been pleasing to her. "How 'bout pistols? Can ye show me how te use a pistol 's well."_

_"I can teach you all you want to learn."_

_"Well... um, I also need to know all these things 'bout ships 'n sails 'n masts- all this nautical stuff, ye know?"_

_"I know. But for navigation you have to know how to calculate, to read and to write...Do you want me to teach you this as well? Knowledge might be as powerful as a sharpened blade."_

_In these times, woman usually weren't taught how to read or write- unless of course they were born into a wealthy and liberally orientated family. Little Rowan Scarlett knew that._

_"Sounds cool." she expressed her enthusiasm and held out her small hand to Santiago. "Now, do we have an accord?"_

Jack Sparrow had tried to make a conversation with Will but the whelp seemed to be much more interested in fondling his wife's curls, so he gave up after a while. The drowsiness in the carriage was catching yet he didn't want to fall asleep. This was a strange day. He didn't even know why he was here at all. Certainly not because **Alf **had asked him so friendly to join them. Alf- or Santiago or Don Miguel or all: Miguel Alfonso de Santiago. Maybe it was curiosity. It had been quite a shock to meat him today though he should have known better. There weren't many Spanish weirdoes in these waters and Scarlett had mentioned his name a couple of times- the penny should have dropped sometime before. For so many years he had repressed all memory of him and he didn't know the reason why, as it all had begun fairly promising once...

..._he had been a street urchin with a head full of dreams but not a single penny in his pockets; his life hadn't been easy yet he'd had the rare talent to make the best from any situation, so he always came through somehow. However, Fortuna had really been on his side when he met Alf. Soon he had a roof above his head, a bed to sleep in, clean clothes and always enough to eat. He could have gotten used to it if only this house hadn't been much too far away from the sea and the harbour. Though he could see the sea from the window of his room it wasn't the same hearing and smelling it. Also it wasn't really his cup of tea to sit in a room and to decline verbs of a language that was too old to be used anymore when the sun was shining brightly from a clear blue sky. He knew he owed Alf a favour so he tried it at least sometimes yet he knew as well that he would never need it, as one day he's gonna be a famous pirate captain. Now, did pirate captains ever need Latin to do their plundering and looting? The answer was no and that's why he preferred to spend most of his time in the docks where his old friends hung out, although it was quite embarrassing that they'd already started to tease him about being better dressed and- even worse- _educated

_"Ye'll never be a pirate, Jack, let alone a pirate captain." they mocked. _

_"Ah, one day, me name's gonna be bloody well known in the Spanish Main- no, in the whole world actually. Mark me words, mates. Ye're gonna hear 'bout the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow."_

_He already had his characteristic way to get people hung on his every word no matter how much nonsense he talked, so he managed to impress the _harbour-rats_ once again. Only Steven Bonnet, who had already sailed the sea as a ship's boy on a pirate's ship, kept on teasing Jack._

_"Come on boy, ye've ne'er been on a ship before so stop talkin' 'bout becomin' a pirate."_

_"Alf's promised me a ship, me own ship."_

_Steven laughed. "Ye're quite naïve, aren't ye? D' ye really think ol' men 're really carin' for cute li'le boys like ye 'cept they're perverts? Me guess 's that ye'd rather end as a rent boy than an infamous pirate captain."_

_"Take that back!" he hissed furiously as he didn't allow anybody to speak ill of Alf._

_"Or...?" _

_Steven was older, bigger and stronger but he was Jack Sparrow and would have started a fight with anyone who spoke ill of Alf. He'd already done it many times and he knew a lot of tricks. A little later he had a broken tooth plus a few more bruises but the other guy looked even worse. Steven lay on the floor and seemed to be absolutely surprised about what had happened to him; the little boy had beaten him. _

_"Ne'er say again Alf's a pervert. 'n 'bout me becomin' a pirate- gimme a year. I'll sign on the same ship like ye 'n I'll prove ye that within a year **I**'m gonna be the one who gives orders to you, savvy." _

_"So it'd be. It's a fair bet but in the end ye'll lose, sucker!"_

_So he signed on a pirate ship for the first time. He was young and the world lay at his feet but in his enthusiasm he'd forgotten to tell Alf about it; he just ran away thoughtlessly. However, it had always been easier for him to fight for Alf's reputation than to tell the man himself how much he cared for him, that he actually liked him a lot and that he owed him a lot. No word of that had ever passed his lips as he'd never been able to lay his heart bare to anyone. But, he'd proved it to Steven and within a year he'd already made a name for himself among the pirates of the Caribbean. When he returned to Tortuga he was as proud as a peacock and Alf was really mad with him, nevertheless he'd awaited him at the docks. _

_"Guess I've told you to wait for the opportune moment, Jack." he said offended and would have liked to tweak his ears if that hadn't been a much too ridiculous thing to do._

_"I did, honestly, but that **was** the opportune moment to me 'cause if ye wait too long it'll pass 'n ne'er returns, aye?"_

_Alf couldn't help it, he had to smile at him. When they went to his house in the hills he was eager to hear all about Jack Sparrow's adventures and maybe he thought everything was gonna be the way it's used to be. But he was wrong. _

_The sea takes all and gives nothing back. Once infected by her she's gonna be in your blood for a lifetime, floating though your veins and calling for you. You can't stop her- can you stop the earth from turning, the fire from burning, the wind from blowing- she calls you and you'll return as you can't bear this yearning for her any longer._

_He had to follow her call again but this time with Alf's blessing and his best wishes. **This time** he was asked to join the famous Captain Henry Morgan on his way to Panama. He couldn't believe it. He was asked to join the man who'd sacked Portobello town and looted more than 250000 Pesos- he's gonna be a rich man soon!_

_Well, actually he didn't get rich. Fifteen Pounds wasn't that much but he gained plenty of experiences when they raided Panama town... yet he's never ever talked about it with somebody and after that, all pirates who'd sailed under Morgan's command scattered in different directions. _

_When he finally returned to Tortuga once again he didn't find the way back to Alf's house anymore as the taverns in the dock area were much closer, and the promise of rum and doxies was much too tempting. Alf became a distant figure of his past yet he thought of him quite often during the years to follow. They've met once or twice by incident but then the memories faded...until now when he was to return to the place where it had started a long time ago... it was a warm, comforting feeling... _

...it was only a daydream and his return to reality was quite a harsh one, as someone elbowed his ribs hardly to remind him that he had crossed forbidden borders once again by resting his head on her shoulder..

"Oh, why didn't you leave him?" Elisabeth chirped with delight. "He looked so **cute** cuddled close to you."

Before Scarlett could give an answer, Jack did. "Sorry, Lizzie, but ye surly don't wanna spoil me reputation, aye? I'm Captain Jack Sparrow- I don't intend to look cute, savvy?"

"By the way, me neither." Scarlett hissed sharply.

Elisabeth just sighed, thinking about what a pretty nice couple they could be if only they would stop this nasty bitching at each other- and if it was suitable at all to regard two pirate captains as a nice couple. The sudden stop of the carriage interrupted her thoughts. Santiago opened the door to welcome them to his house.

"Oh, this is really beautiful Will, isn't it?" she gasped enthusiastically when she saw an inner courtyard that was overgrown by oleander bushes and had a fountain with lions of stone. Yet the fountain was out of use and the whole place had the atmosphere of being abandoned for a long time, but it still told of glorious times. Some servants appeared to take care of the horses.

Will looked surprised as he hadn't expected a house like this in Tortuga; when he came here with Jack he'd only got to know dirt, stench and debauchery.

"I'm glad you like it, Mylady, though the house is certainly not in a condition you're used to. I've been away too long and unfortunately didn't have the time to prepare everything to your satisfaction for your visit as I had to take care of the poor Pearl as well; yet I hope the room I've chosen for you will be acceptable."

"Dear Mister Santiago, I'm not the spoiled governor's daughter anymore, so please don't make any unnecessary effort. Everything will be all right for me as long as I can be with my beloved Will." Elisabeth emphasized politely but firmly.

Will smiled gently at her wondering once more what on earth he did deserve her love, but then something Santiago had said made him wonder even more. "Prepare everything for our visit? But how could you know we were coming to Tortuga since that's something I never intended to do? Actually we've been quite happy living in Port Royal before..."

"Jack came and messed up everything?" Santiago interjected helpfully but Will shook his head in disapproval.

"Well, actually it was rather Captain Scarlett who did the messing up; Jack's not to blame."

Jack flashed the Spaniard a golden grin and held up his hands in a big gesture that seemed to say, _you see, it's not me to blame_, but Santiago ignored him completely.

"Dear William, things aren't always what they might seem. The ways of life are full of twists and turns, unforeseeable for most of us, but one day we'll meet at a distant crossing and we have to ask ourselves whether this is coincidental- or predestined." he told Will who wasn't much wiser afterwards, although he nodded as if he had understood every word. Perhaps he also thought that these words were just too high for a simple blacksmith. Santiago recognized his confusion and put an arm around the young man's shoulder. "Don't worry, William, it had been a long voyage and the sea hasn't treated you very kindly. I assume that you must be tired, hungry and thirsty, so I suggest we have some refreshment before we discuss what's happened in Port Royal."

The door of the house was opened by a slender Asian woman now, who greeted Santiago with the traditional _wai;_ her palms were put against each other at the level of her nose to show her respect for the elder man.

"Welcome, Don Miguel." she said with a voice that sounded like a sweet song and every movement of her was so full of grace that once again Scarlett felt rather awkwardly in Mai-Lin's presence. Although the woman was a few years older than her, the years gone by hadn't done any harm to Mai-Lin's beauty and she still looked as fresh and pure as a young girl. "Also I would like to welcome your dear guests, Mr. and Mrs. William Turner. Please do feel at home here if you may. And my dear Rowan, I'm so glad to see you again- it's been so long ago, isn't it?"

While Will and Elisabeth imitated the _wai_ in some sort of clumsy way and Scarlett in perfection, Jack just rushed in with an easy-going 'hello luv'. Then he stopped, turned around, and bowed to Mai-Lin in a gesture that vaguely reminded a _wai_, but only in his quite special and own ways. Nevertheless, Mai-Lin blushed..

"Oh Jack! You did come back..."

"And he's going to leave us soon." Santiago interrupted with a voice that could even freeze the Caribbean. He gave Sparrow so a hard push that he nearly stumbled and warned him to never ever lay his greedy eyes on any woman of his household again.

Jack was a little perplex. He hadn't intended to offend anyone but his presence here seemed to be offending enough to Alf, or Santiago. Suddenly he felt like a little boy again who'd annoyed him by sliding down the railing of the staircase instead of using the steps... So nothing's changed.

Santiago had already opened a door and invited Elisabeth politely in.

"The interior may be rather unconventional to you yet I hope very much that you'll find it nevertheless comfortable. As I've said before I've been in Asia for a long time and got so used to their style that..."

"My father, Bootstrap Bill Turner, have you met him there?" Will asked so excitedly that he forgot all his good manners by interrupting the elder man, but Santiago showed much more patience with him than with Jack.

"Well, actually your father travelled to Asia with us, aboard the Jewel Star, and then he disappeared one day to seek shelter in the dubious arms of Lady Opium."

"But why...?" Will frowned and ran his fingers through his hair, looking extremely confused. "I know that this sound's rather odd, but why is he not dead? I mean, Barbossa did send him to Davy Jones' locker, didn't he? He couldn't have survived that except if he was cursed but then again there wouldn't be no use taking drugs since they wouldn't have worked on him. Please correct me if I'm wrong."

"Your reasoning doesn't lack a certain logic, dear William, but there are some things that cannot be explained only with logic. For example, Barbossa had **thought **he'd sent your father to death but he was wrong as I was there just in time to prevent your father's death. Also, good old Bill Turner wasn't cursed and that's why he did take drugs. Of course there's never any use in taking drugs, but that's another story- and talking about other stories, lad, I'm afraid that you have to wait a little bit longer to find out more about your dad. I want to hear Rowan's story first, and what that scallywag has to tell before I can finally send him away."

Will didn't dare object to that although he was quite stunned how cold the Spaniard's otherwise friendly voice could get if it was about Jack Sparrow.

"Now rascal, what's happened?" Santiago addressed Jack. "Why weren't you able to take decent care of your **beloved** ship? Is it because you've managed to get cheated once again?"

Jack snorted indignantly and started with one of his stories but after a few words he realized that Alf didn't want to hear that, so he cut it short. "Can't remember much of it, mate. There's a battle with a huge, grey galleon; I fell overboard and all went black. Woke up on another ship with bloody Norrington looking at me 'n I can tell ye, he's really **infernally** pleased to have caught the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Ah, and why did the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow get caught at all? Might it be that he'd already had a few?"

"I wasn't drunk- if that's what ye're indicating. Just a little... well, let's say indisposed."

Scarlett couldn't stand it any longer as this was just ridiculous! Who was the greatest fool of them? Santiago for slagging off or Jack for being too ludicrously proud to tell the truth? Well, in her opinion both of them were behaving just daft. Shaking her head she interfered.

"Bloody hell, why don't ye simply tell him that ye got shot in the back? With a bullet sticking in yer shoulder 'n an infected wound it probably could happen from time to time that ye tend to forget a few details, ay?"

"Ah, so it's not the booze nor the drugs to blame this time- little Jack's got betrayed once more!" Santiago replied sarcastically while making an astonished face. "How could that have happened? I'll wonder if you'll ever learn. So, who's the traitor this time?"

"Surely none of me crew, they're loyal. Besides, I've no eyes on me back, aye?" Jack stressed with a voice that sounded quite pissed off yet Santiago apparently loved to turn the knife in the wound.

"Guess that's what you have thought about Barbossa as well, haven't you? You're so full of yourself that it won't come into your mind somebody might not share your point of view about yourself. Let me tell you that you're wrong to think so."

Jack gave the impression that it didn't matter and that his fingernails were much more interesting than this conversation, yet Santiago had been overstepping the mark. It hadn't been fair to remind him of Barbossa and he simply wouldn't listen to it anymore. Actually he should return to his Pearl now; he didn't know why he came here anyway. Scarlett was much better at telling the story of their adventures in Port Royal as his part in it hadn't been too famous. Laying feverish in the Governor's bed surely wasn't a great story to tell, and getting drugged even less. Luckily she spared him a humiliation and left out how easy it was for her to cheat Captain Jack Sparrow. Of course Alf couldn't stop himself from praising her to the skies for everything his 'dear girl' had ever done... it made him feel sick. Would Alf also say these things if he weren't here? It seemed to him that this was just another attempt to offend him and he had to admit that it worked better than any insult, as there was that little something in Alf's eyes when he looked at her; something that's called a loving pride. Alf had never looked at him like this- but after all, he was Captain Jack Sparrow and didn't need it anyway. And he wasn't needed here but aboard the Pearl, so it was time to say good-bye to this charming company. Nevertheless, there was still one question that had remained unanswered and he was the only one knew.

"What did Norrington want of you?"

Now, that was a reasonable question if Santiago hadn't added. "Assuming we take it for granted that Norrington really wanted to find out something and didn't whip Jack just for being himself."

Enough is enough, Jack thought and got up from the floor cushion he was sitting on. "Why don't ye just ask yer **dear girl** as this pretty butterfly is much smarter than me anyway."

He hadn't intended to make anyone's blood boil, yet Alf got **really **furious now; he jumped up and headed for his throat. Of course Jack couldn't have known that the sarong he was alluding to had been a present the Spaniard had given to Scarlett and certainly not for the reason that a villain like him should see her wrapped in it... not even to think 'about unwrapping her...

"Damned, I'll only warn you once, lad! Keep your dirty fingers off HER! Don't. Molest. Rowan. Got that into your thick head?"

"Santiago!" yelled Scarlett but the Spaniard had chosen to ignore her by giving Jack a good shaking instead..

"Now, did I make myself clear, you miserable son of a bitch?"

"Oh, unequivocally clear indeed. Thanks for inviting me but I'm better off now."

Scarlett was stunned. Jack was about to leave the room, even the house, and Santiago didn't do anything to stop him. He only shouted: "If you'll ever dare to pester her, you're a dead man. I won't allow you to put her into any danger once again!"

"Hey, it's not me who's to blame..."

"**Leave my house, now**!"

"Great performance!" Scarlett cursed after Jack's finally left the room. "Ye both 've reacted like two stubborn, stupid boys. Absolutely fascinating! Damn you Santiago, wake up and don't be so bloody unjust. Do you really think Jack could have ever touched me if I didn't want him to? He didn't start anything, it was me."

"That's irrelevant."

"Bloody hell, it's not!" Scarlett turned to make her way to the door but Santiago stopped her.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked.

"I'll go 'n get Jack back."

"You're not going to run after that bloody scallywag!"

"I'm not **running after him**!" she pointed out. "Damned, we've got to find out what Norrington really wants from him!"!"

"That doesn't matter, dear. Nevertheless he will believe that you're running after him!"

Scarlett couldn't believe it. She ran her fingers through her hair and thought that either Santiago was going nuts or she was cracking up. However, she felt like a volcano shortly before eruption and couldn't hold it back any longer. "Bloody hell, it **does** matter! Actually it's of great importance, as Ratbone's no longer a mentally retarded hunchback but an evil magician and bloody Norrington's his willing servant and he's tortured Jack to find out a secret. But ye've sent away the only one who could've shed a little light on that just because ye're such a stubborn, grumpy old man who's apparently had his pride hurt by Jack a long time ago and is unable to forget 'bout it."

"It's not only my pride he's hurt." Santiago sighed and wondered if he could dare to put an arm around her shoulder yet she'd calmed down by now, breathing as heavily as if she'd run a long distance. He looked at the Turners who obviously felt rather uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, I didn't want you to suffer from our little quarrel. Will you please excuse Rowan and I for a while as we really must talk about something without delay."

He took Scarlett by the arm and shoved her gently from the room into an adjacent one that was stuffed with books. He quietly closed the door.

"So, if we forget the tiresome fact that you've fallen for Jack's mischievous charm..."

"No need to assume any romantic motives, it was just the storm and I had the need." Scarlett interrupted him.

"Dear Gods, I should have sent you to a convent while you were still a child. The nuns would have taught you at least a bit of decency." Of course this was supposed to be a joke but he should have known that Scarlett wasn't in the mood for jokes at all. She looked at him with dangerously sparkling eyes.

"Bloody Spanish macho! Now, should I be glad ye didn't do it, as the nuns would have loved to see if the red-haired devil's child would sink or swim? Oh, ye're so merciful."

"I am indeed. I had mercy on the nuns as you'd have probably gotten them drunk and taught them to sing all those nasty songs you learned at the brothel." Santiago laughed while opening a bottle and filling two glasses of his best Scottish whiskey. He handed one to Scarlett. "Come on, relax now, and have mercy with an old Spanish macho."

"Sorry... should've known ye're just teasing." She apologized rather sheepishly gulping down the whiskey. He gave her a hug.

"You're really wound tight at the moment, aye? Well I can comprehend this- after all, you've spent the last days with Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Well, he can be a pain in the arse sometimes but I can handle him." She sighed and helped herself to the whiskey. "It's Ratbone who makes me jumpy... it was so weird... like the world's changed into a perverted image of herself. Ye know, I've never really believed in magic though I knew it exists somehow. Dunno how to handle that."

"Surely not by getting drunk on my best whiskey." Santiago tried to keep the bottle away from her but she was faster, grabbed it and didn't even bother to use a glass anymore.

"Stop makin' such a fuss 'bout yer bloody whiskey. I'll just commandeer the next ship arriving from Scotland 'n all's fine again."

He saw that there was no use telling her about the different qualities of whiskey now and this one that had been stored in an oak barrel for many years, as there were more important things to talk over. He knew as well that his precious whiskey would calm her tense nerves and this was of the highest importance to him. So he let her drink as much as she wanted while she finally told him the whole truth of what's happened in Port Royal.

Scarlett usually wasn't easy to scare yet even thinking about this golden chalice sent shivers down her spine and her hands were trembling. However, talking about it made her doubt her mental state. This was far too insane as it was far too magical. Santiago had to think she'd gone completely nuts because that's what she thought listening to herself. But she didn't tell any nightmare about a freak show, this had been reality although this reality seemed to be quite out of touch with reality. _Bloody hell, what am I talking about?_

"You're sure the source of magic was a chalice?" Santiago asked after she'd finished her story.

_He doesn't believe me_, was the first thing that came into her mind. "Well, I'm damned sure the source wasn't the end of a bottle if you're indicating that. I can never get drunk enough to think up something like this."

"No. No, I'm not indicating anything; of course I believe you. I just wanted to be sure about the chalice." Santiago scratched his head thoughtfully and looked at the bookshelves which rose to every side of this room, stuffed with books, scrolls and old parchments. "Haven't I read about that chalice before... sounds somehow familiar... the answer's here, somewhere... "

He kept babbling on but he only talked to himself now and almost seemed to have forgotten Scarlett. Amused she watched him rummage in his books for a clue, knowing that he wouldn't stop until he's found what he was looking for. Somehow it was a relief that he picked things up so they're not resting on her shoulders anymore. She had another gulp of whiskey, feeling relaxed enough to inquire something else.

"Now, before ye bury your head in any book and won't be responsive for a while, lemme ask ye a simply question. What's happened between ye 'n Jack?"

"Ah, Jack. You're right. Go and get him back. We need to know what Norrington wants as there might be a connection to the chalice."

Scarlett looked at him in bewilderment. "Great, um... but that wasn't the question. Actually I wanted to know why ye're so mad at Jack Sparrow- and no excuses."

"Is there any whiskey left?" He put away the book he was scrolling through and walked up to her. After she'd filled his glass, he continued. "Well, you've nearly died because of his inability to judge people, his damned egoism and his stubborn pride. It was for Jack's sake I've left you at the wrong moment in time. I simply cannot forgive him for what he's done to you."

Scarlett frowned; she knew what he referred to but she didn't get what this had to do with Jack. She'd been foolish enough to underestimate Barbossa and that's why she nearly died- it was her own folly.Troubled with these memories she turned to look out of the window, lost in her thoughts.

"Sorry, Rowan, I really didn't want to bring up unwanted memories. Do you understand now why I'm so furious that Jack makes eyes at you? He's only full of himself and never cares about anyone else but himself."

"And he's gone!" Scarlett suddenly realized and she didn't mean the well-known fact that he'd left the house as she pointed towards the harbour where only one dark ship lay at anchor, and that one was the Jewel. The Black Pearl had obviously set sails to increase the distance between Jack Sparrow and Santiago and she felt cheated somehow. "Bloody bastard! Now we might never find out what Norrington wants of him."

"Don't worry about that, Rowan. We don't need him as I'll find out anyway." Santiago promised and gave her a comforting hug. "Rest now, you look tired."

Needless to remind Santiago that she hadn't slept much last night as she didn't want to bring on **that **topic again yet it was also applied to the nights before. All of a sudden she felt dog-tired, emotionally burned out after all of today's stress, and a little bit drunk as well.

"Besides, I guess he'll return soon, as he surely won't miss the chance to sail to Shanghai with you and Will."

She couldn't help but giggle as there was a dizzy feeling in her head caused by the whiskey she'd already had, and the imagination of two pirate captains going on a vacation trip to Asia was just too weird.

thanks again to **Ellenar:** I love thunderstorms best when I'm lying in bed writing about them...


	8. 7 uncharted heights of madness

**7. uncharted heights of madness**

Captain Jack Sparrow let the helm to Gibbs and walked to the rail staring at the sea. It was a bright sunny day with a fresh breeze blowing, actually a perfect day for sailing. The sails of the Pearl were flapping in the wind like a raven in flight and the beads in his tangled hair jingled. A breath of wind touched his face. He smelled the salty air filled with all the promises the sea still held for him. There were endless horizons waiting for him, ships to be plundered...

...just like that little galleon they've seized yesterday, a latecomer of a Spanish treasure fleet and so fully-laden that it could hardly swim. To take easy prey could be quiet boring sometimes. It hadn't been a challenge and maybe that's why it hadn't been any fun. None of the gold and silver in the hold could cheer him up, yet his crew had a good time. He remembered their shining eyes when they looted the ship but he went to his cabin feeling bored. Sparkling of gold had lost all enticement for him, it didn't affect him, didn't mean anything to him. Now, this was somehow worrying...

...and it got even worse. He felt _strange_, or at least not well. He was hungry yet at the same time he wasn't; the food simply didn't have any taste anymore. Well, the Black Pearl had never been famous for it's outstanding cooking since a pirate's ship really didn't need that to be feared, but that's not the point... even a new cook couldn't satisfy him at the moment. He tried to fill the strange void inside him with rum but that didn't help either and the hangover only made it worse.

At night, he couldn't sleep... he'd never been a heavy sleeper. He usually slept with a pistol under his pillow- you learn some things if you've seen a mutiny once- but he wasn't used tossing and turning the whole night. During the day he felt tired and dejected, enjoying nothing at all. Every movement seemed somehow arduous to him and he had the feeling an ugly, shapeless black animal was sitting on his head dragging him down.

"You look tired- if I may be permitted to say that, Captain."

Jack winced, not having noticed that Gibbs had stepped beside him. He swallowed the curse that was on the tip of his tongue and just nodded; he wasn't in the mood to argue. Actually he wasn't in the mood to do anything including steering the Pearl, and if even that couldn't cheer him up something had to be definitely wrong with him. But what?

Maybe this had to do with Alf, he thought while walking down the companions way, because Alf had been damned mad at him and the Spaniard really was a weird guy. Maybe he'd poisoned his drink or- even worse- cursed him... of course he didn't know but he believed Alf was capable of doing things that were beyond understanding... He opened the door to his cabin and saw Anamaria waiting for him. _Or maybe I simply need a good lay_.

It had occurred to him as a good idea but it ended in something like a disaster, nevertheless it had been a promising start. Anamaria had been so charming to him lately that he almost forgot everything else for a moment when their lips met for a kiss. Unfortunately the moment didn't last long. Well, the kiss had been _nice_... comforting in a way but that's all. She'd done nothing wrong and yet it wasn't right; it didn't feel right. He was no longer in the mood and shoved her gently away.

"Ah, leave me alone Ana. I'm not in the mood." he apologized heavily sighing. He'd never thought he'd ever say that- neither did Anamaria. She looked at him in disbelief thinking if he was only joking but he wasn't, yet he should have considered the consequences of rejecting her.

"You bloody wanker!" she yelled furiously jumping up from the bed and slapping him harder than ever before. He blacked out for maybe a second before a loud bang brought him back to reality. She'd left his cabin slamming the door. "... you're thinking 'bout **her**!"

Jack sat on the floor next to his bed with a bleeding nose and bottle of rum in his hands thinking what the hell's gone wrong. Suddenly he knew it- he was cursed. His hunger that was nearly starving him, his thirst that couldn't be quenched, his inability to feel anything but an increasing void deep inside of him... hadn't it begun similar with Barbossa and his crew of damned miscreants? The curse must've been restored somehow, there wasn't another explanation for his state. He'd been part of this horror before since he'd nicked a coin from that bloody chest to be able to defeat Barbossa. He'd taken the risk upon himself and now he's going to pay for it... his worst nightmare had come true. Although he'd been under the influence of the curse just a short time he'd gained an impression of what hell's gonna be like. Oh, he'd made a joke about the immortal Captain Jack Sparrow when he stood there at that chest with Will but actually there'd been nothing he'd rather have done than to cut his hand and drop the bloody coin in. In any case, immortality had its dark sides and he wasn't keen to find out more about it if immortality was combined with feeling nothing. He didn't want to lose himself again.

The rum tasted sour and burned his throat yet he couldn't stop it; he had to keep on drinking. His heart was in the bilge. The world was as empty as the bottle in his hands so he opened another one. He felt dull, frustrated and at the same time he was longing for... longing for what? Ah, he just wanted to curl up in the corner with his soul...

There was a knock on the door and Gibbs entered the cabin, startled to see what state his captain was in. He rushed at his side.

"Jack, what's wrong with ye?"

"I'm cursed mate." he said without looking up and didn't even bother not being called 'Captain'. It didn't matter anymore, nothing mattered.

"Jack what're ye talkin' 'bout?"

"I'm cursed."

"Aye, ye've already said that but why d'ye think so?" Gibbs searched his pockets for a piece of clean cloth and handed it to Jack. "Here, wipe the blood off yer face and tell me who did this to ye."

"Aztec Gods."

"Aztec Gods punched yer nose?"

"Nah, that's Ana... didn't wanna go to bed with her."

"Oh." Gibbs fell silent for a moment and thought about it before he came up with the only logical conclusion: "Well, I've always told ye it's frightful bad luck havin' a woman aboard."

Jack faked a smile but even that made his face ache so he gulped down more rum. "This 's a serious problem Mr. Gibbs 'n it's nothin' to do with bad luck. The curse's been restored that's why I'm cursed, savvy. Remember Barbossa? I'm gonna be juss like 'im. I feel nothin'. I'm hungry but the food doesn't taste, neither the rum. I'm only pretendin' to enjoy it but it doesn't quench my thirst 'n I wasn't in the mood to lay Ana."

"Well, that doesn't mean ye're cursed as yer nose is still bleedin' and it wouldn't if ye're really cursed."

"Stop bothering me with irrelevant minor details. I know what I'm talkin' 'bout since I've been through his before. I... I need more rum, can't think clearly... don't wanna think 'bout it actually."

"Captain, forgive me for being so bold to speak freely but I think ye've already had enough rum." "Mr. Gibbs, ye possibly wanna indicate I'm drunk but that's impossible as I'm cursed, therefore I can't get drunk, savvy. Lemme alone now."

"No." Gibbs refused to leave. "I worry 'bout ye, Jack. Dunno what's wrong with ye but ye're definitely not cursed or me name's not Joshamee Gibbs. Ye may be daft or drunk **but ye're not cursed**. "

"Ye're stubborn **Mr. Smith **'n I'll prove ye're wrong, ye'll see."

Before Gibbs could react Jack held a dagger in his hands and tried to cut his left arm with it but luckily Gibbs stopped him at the last moment. They were struggling for the dagger for a while until Jack suddenly gave up and returned to his bottle of rum. He looked like he wanted to drown himself in it.

"Why 're ye so obsessed of bein' cursed?" the elder man wondered. "There must be another explanation to this. Ah, I've got it! Maybe ye're just havin' some sort of midlife-crisis."

"Bloody hell d'ye think I'm getting old? I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, mate!" He raised the bottle, swallowed some rum and got off from the floor swaying more than usual. "Moonlight 'll show ye what I really am..."

Jack stumbled on deck followed by Gibbs. He outstretched his arms waving to the moon and performed something like a strange pirouette- to prove what? That he was mad? Yet he failed to prove he was cursed. Astonished he looked at his hands lightened by moonlight and moved his fingers as swiftly as if doing a card trick, then he tried it slower but the result was the same. He hadn't changed into a skeleton. There were still tendons and muscles under his skin, and no bare bones. _Now, that's interesting, very interesting..._ Lost in thoughts he watched his hands until Gibbs stopped this grotesque moon-dance and shoved him back into his cabin. No need for the whole crew to see their Captain in a state like this.

"Jack, I've said it before 'n I'll repeat it again. You. Are. Not. Cursed."

Jack sank to the floor, feeling frustrated and hopeless. He grabbed another bottle of rum although he knew he'd already had enough. So maybe he wasn't cursed or at least not cursed by Aztec Gods but there **was** an ugly, shapeless, black animal sitting on his head. He could never see it yet it was there.

"Go away." he growled.

"I won't. You shouldn't be alone in a mood like this."

"Didn't mean ye. Drinkin' in company's much better."

Gibbs looked around the cabin if there was anyone else but they were alone. So who should go away? He decided better not to ask because he possibly wouldn't want to know the answer. "Ye're really in an odd mood since we've left Tortuga."

"Aye, we should return to Tortuga." Jack agreed though this hadn't been the topic. "Tortuga's a nice place."

Gibbs sighed silently. "I wonder if this red-haired witch has something to do with it... maybe she'd bewitched my captain."

"I heard that." Jack pointed accusingly at Gibbs and got a little bit more sober all at once. "Don't call her that never ever again. She's not a witch, she's... cute. Nah, I didn't really mean _cute_... she's a pirate, not cute at all... she's fooled me and drugged me and played with me- yet I like her, and ye're a much too superstitious old fart."

_Oh no it's worse than expected. Jack wasn't cursed or at least not in the usual meaning of being cursed as he's fallen in love with a red-haired witch. But Captain Jack Sparrow couldn't possibly suffer from lovesickness!_ _Gosh, how's this gonna end,_ Gibbs wondered.


	9. 8 the Phantom

8. The Phantom

Captain Rowan Scarlett was bored. A few lazy days off in Tortuga had been nice after the adventure in Port Royal but now she felt it was time for a change. Unfortunately she couldn't set sail to anywhere because Santiago wanted to find out more about that chalice and had buried himself in his books, but apparently he hadn't found a hint yet. Since he was not available for conversation, Will had started to plague her every day about when they would be sailing to Shanghai. She didn't have the nerve to tell him the tale of a mysterious chalice, an evil magician and an odd-behaving Norrington, and that they would have to thwart their plans first before they could even think about finding the boy's father. So she passed the buck to Jack Sparrow and told Will that they're only waiting for him to return.

"If he ever returns and I doubt that. Just remember the way Santiago had chucked him out." Will said gloomily.

Actually she doubted it too but that was no reason to confirm his worries. "Well he'd promised it to you and it's not up to me to judge if you can trust his promises, so you have to make up your own mind about it. Guess you know him better than I do."

Will paused to puzzle out the meaning behind her words and she used the opportunity to hurry off.

Scarlett had almost reached the harbour when she picked up the talk of two fisherman about a wreck that had been washed ashore at the north-western coast of the island near Cap Binauette. _Well, that sounds interesting_, she thought and tried to find out more information since an abandoned wreck was always an easy prey. Apparently no one had entered it yet due to the tide, but if that got around it would be overrun by pirates or any other adventures soon. So she had to think of something better than getting there by boat like all the others would try to, and she even knew how. She ran all the way back to Santiago's house and borrowed one of his horses. Unlike other sailors- or pirates- she'd always liked horseback-riding.

She reached Cap Binauette about an hour later and immediately saw the wreck; it had gotten stuck between the rocky cliffs. Approaching it she was startled because she knew this ship- it was the Gavina. Her head was spinning with all possible explanations for this accident but soon she realized that there was something wrong. The Gavina couldn't possibly have been the victim of an unlucky accident since the hull didn't look badly damaged nor did the masts or rigging. Yet there was an aura of death surrounding the wreck. A flock of seagulls soared up into the sky when she came closer and then she could even smell the decay.

They were all dead, the whole crew. Men that had laughed and drunk with her own crew once were lying blood-stained and scattered on the deck now, mutilated beyond recognition by time, weather and animals.

Scarlett didn't know why she entered the ship although the first look had been shocking enough to last for a lifetime. Maybe it was the absurd idea of finding a survivor or a strange kind of sentimentality that made her to go to the Captain's cabin. Or maybe she just had to see it with her own eyes that Capitano Escobar was dead as well.

For a moment she thought everything was all right because he sat at his table with all his nautical charts and instruments spread in front of him. Ignoring the tattered logbook she called his name. Of course there was no reaction. She stepped closer and touched his shoulder to see… what? That he was only wounded and miraculously lived long enough to be saved by her? Yet the splattered blood had dried already and you can't save someone from a cut throat. He was definitely dead. She felt miserable, sad and angry at the same time because of this senseless killing.

Suddenly she heard footsteps coming down the companions way so she quickly hid behind the door, giving it a hard kick to welcome the intruder at the right moment. But it didn't slam shut and hit the face of someone. There was the sound of metal meeting wood and getting stuck. She heard a low curse followed by rattling and whirled round the corner to threaten the person with her sword, pointing the blade at the throat of- Captain Jack Sparrow.

"Hello luv." He had stopped tugging at his sword since it wasn't wise to make rash moves with a blade pointed at his throat. He looked rather stunned. Then a broad, gold-glittering smile flashed across his face.

"Oh no. It's you again."

"I've missed ye too." Although her blade was still aimed at his throat he spread his arms in an exaggerated gesture of welcome. "Come on luv, no need to tickle me with yer sword. I'm sure ye can show me yer affection in a better way."

"Affection?" She frowned and shook her head but at the same time she lowered her weapon. "What are ye doing here?"

"Ah, that's a good question. By the way, I could ask ye the same and add: **how** did ye get here? I didn't see a boat."

"That might be 'cause I came here on horse-back."

"Horse?"

"Aye, it's an animal with four legs, a mane, and a tail."

"I bloody know what a horse is luv, but why- ah, now I know! Alf's education. He was always keen on teachin' things ye'll never need when ye're to become an infamous pirate…"

"Did you prefer to learn things like that?" She cut him short and pointed with her head to the dead Spanish captain. "Does it come up better to yer black pirate's heart to kill innocent people?"

"Thought ye know me better."

He sounded offended and Scarlett knew immediately that perhaps she'd gone too far- but on the other hand, what did she really know about him? Could she offend him at all or did she just wound his pride a little? If only he wasn't be such a damned poser, exaggerated in his whole way… yet he managed to surprise her now and again.

"Now listen, luv. I saw seen this wreck and noticed it was the Gavina, so I actually came here to see if there's anythin' I can do like givin' the dead an appropriate burial at sea. I know that ye liked Captain Escobar 'n I'm sorry that he's dead but it's neither me to blame nor any other pirate, savvy. Have a look. What d'ye see? The logbook's tattered but ev'rythin' else's untouched. Yet any pirate would've looted the cabin pinchin' at least the charts 'n the nautical instruments, so this wasn't any pirate's doin'."

He was right and she'd been too blind to notice. He was also right that the dead deserved an appropriate burial at sea; this thought had come to her as well yet she hadn't known how to do it on her own. Maybe she should be glad that he was here and would give her a helping hand.

"Well, I'm sorry Jack. Apparently I'm a bit…" She broke off when she saw him approaching the dead Spanish Capitano like a tiger on the hunt, stalking closer without ever leaving his eyes off Escobar's hand that still rested on the table. There was a slight glitter of gold from one of his rings so she thought Jack was on the hunt for treasures. Annoyed she barked him back. "Bloody hell, ye're not going to plunder him before ye send him to Davy Jones' locker!"

Again she was wrong about his intentions. He paused and looked at her in bewilderment.

"Is there a problem between us, Captain Scarlett? Do you really think I'll plunder a good man who has helped to safe our lives?" Jack straightened his back and gave her an odd gaze. "There's a piece of paper crumbled in his hand. I don't know what you think but I'd like to find out what it's all about. Maybe it's a hint of what really happened here."

"Sorry Jack." she said for the second time within minutes.

"Aye, ye should be." He took the piece of paper from the dead man's hand and studied it.

"What's he writin'?"

"Don't know."

She was tempted to ask whether reading was one of those things he also never bothered to learn when he started to read aloud.

"_Querida Capitano, el tiempo urge. __El barco gris sobre que hablamos_… Is that Spanish?"

"That's for me!" Excitedly she tore the letter out of his hands and had a quick look at it. Of course it was written in Spanish since it had been Capitano Escobar who wrote the letter.

"So what's he writing?"

"…_ the grey ship we've been talking about really exists. It's called **Phantom**. Appearing from out of nowhere it follows us and is swiftly closing the gap. Soon they'll catch up... _I can't read what's next because the ink's smeared but it's quite obvious what happened, aye?" She looked at Jack with narrowed eyes and tried to control her rising anger. "This grey ship, the Phantom, what d'ye know 'bout it? And- more important- what did bloody Norrington want from you? He even tortured you to find out **what**? What is of such importance for him that he forgets all his good manners and begins to kill innocents? **Tell me**!"

"I wonder why nobody asks me politely 'cause actually I'm not such a bad guy. I'll definitely respond to polite questions." he stressed yet that wasn't the answer to her question and she didn't want to beg. At least not at the moment as there was a line in the letter that caught her attention.

It was about Santiago. She remembered that she'd asked Escobar once if he knew anything about him or his origin since Santiago himself never revealed anything concerning his past. _"I know you will read this one day, so I have to tell you that I've discovered something interesting about a certain Miguel Alfonso de Santiago in a book. I forgot to show it to you last time..."_

"Ye'd made inquiries 'bout Alf's past?" Jack sounded astonished. "Never thought of that."

"Mm, didn't find out much either. You know how reserved he can be, aye?"

"Aye." He smirked at her invitingly. "Well, Escobar said somethin' 'bout a book and luckily he hasn't as many as Santiago. So, are we gonna look for it, luv?"

"We're most definitely gonna look for it!"

There was this fallen angel's smile on her face again and suddenly he knew what he had been longing for these last days though he didn't know it then. That also meant Gibbs had been right on the point that he really wasn't cursed, 'cause if he was cursed he wouldn't feel anything but actually he felt quite good today. Nevertheless he didn't understand it at all.

Scarlett had already turned to the bookshelf taking out one book after the other and flipping through them. Soon she lost patience. It would take days to search them all for a hint. She wished Escobar had been less vague and specified in which book he'd read about Santiago. Of course this was too much too ask for since he'd been facing death while writing the letter and that reminded her of the fact that the atmosphere in this cabin was spooky. They were on a ghost ship and its captain was watching them with dead eyes. A shiver ran down her spine; all of a sudden finding out more about Santiago's past wasn't that interesting anymore but at the same time Jack gasped. "Now that's really interesting!"

He had been more efficient with his search, had ignored books about nautical things or those that looked untouched for a long time when he saw one which jutted out a little. A bookmark lay in it and immediately showed him the right page, a page with a picture of Miguel Alfonso de Santiago true to life. That alone wasn't really spectacular but the date was. 1492.

Rowan had the feeling someone was cutting the ground out from under her feet. Her knees became weak and the blood was roaring so loudly in her head that she scarcely was aware of her surroundings any more. She only saw this picture. She knew it was Santiago himself and not one of his ancestors who incidentally had the same name but this couldn't be. He couldn't be that old. No man has ever lived that long- provided that he was a man at all…

A bottle was held to her mouth and from a far distance she heard Jack saying. "Have a sip o' rum luv ye'll feel better then."

The golden liquid floated down her throat and lit a warming fire in her stomach. Slowly her senses were returning, bringing her back to reality. She remembered that Santiago had looked old the day they'd met but of course she'd been a child then and every grown-up had looked extremely old to her. Since that day it had always seemed to her that only **she** was getting older… like trying to catch up with him. But maybe her memory wasn't serving her right because she'd seen Santiago nearly every day during these last twenty years so maybe her imagination was playing tricks on her. She glanced at Jack suddenly realizing that he was still standing next to her with a bottle of rum in his hand and apparently in the same need for a drink like she was.

"Ye haven't seen Santiago for a long time so d'ye think he's changed- his appearance I mean?"

"No. He looks exactly the way I remember him yet he certainly doesn't look like he's over 200. I'd say he's well-preserved for that age."

"Ha, ye're joking. None can live that long." She ran her fingers through her hair thinking about it. Only recently she had started to believe in magic yet she had always known that there were things beyond reason. Apparently her whole world just collapsed about her and the person she had trusted most had cheated her all the time.

Jack shrugged. "Well think 'bout it luv. Both of us **always** knew that he's a little peculiar, aye? He likes to talk in riddles and does things beyond reason and I also guess he's somehow involved in let's say 'magical affairs' but after all he's a good man who cares a lot 'bout ye."

"But he's lied to me." she snapped defiantly.

"Nah, I wouldn't say that luv. Maybe he's only failed to mention it to ye."

"Failed to mention that he's more than 200 years old? Jack, he's a… damned I don't even know **what** he is!" In a complete turmoil she stared at the picture again as if it could answer all her questions. Santiago looked so familiar on it and yet somehow different. Suddenly she got it- it was the uniform he was wearing, the uniform of a highly decorated soldier. Once again she was taken aback and even more after she'd glanced through the article that was printed on the opposite page. "Apparently he's also failed to mention that he had fought for His Most Catholic Majesty of Spain at that time, that he'd helped to 'purify' Granada from the Moors by killing them and that this bestowed him the 'glorious title **Slayer of Granada**. So what d'ye think now?"

"Is slayer a glorious title?" Jack asked puzzled and shook his head. "Well, these Spaniards are really peculiar guys indeed."

"They're all stubborn, ignorant and religiously fanatical machos." Rowan put a scornful emphasis on the last word but she didn't bother to give him another lesson in Spanish history since she'd already told him about her own past and how her parents had been hunted by inquisition. A cold shiver ran down her spine realizing that Santiago had been part of this terror crew as well and had even played a special role in their evil game once. She knew that she'd never forgive him nor trust him ever again. For a moment, she felt utterly frustrated and somehow abandoned- until she realized she wasn't **that** alone; Jack had put an arm around her shoulders.

"What's this about?" she asked but her words lacked the usual sharpness and she simply accepted his support without pushing him back.

"I'm only trying to- what's this word?- ah, to **comfort** ye 'cause ye look so troubled." Jack replied as honestly as was able to and even managed to give an absolutely innocent impression.

_Would he do anything without any ulterior motives?_ she wondered and then she decided not to wonder about his motives any longer. Actually she even enjoyed his presence now since she would have felt even more miserable without him, if she had to go through this all on her own. But was it so wise to look into his eyes longer than necessary to let him know she really appreciated his comfort? His dark brown eyes were dangerous as they tended to soften her too much and she already knew how this could end because it had happened once before, and she definitely didn't need this mess right now; her life was messy enough without him. However, he was close enough to play around with an unruly strand of hair that always liked to dangle into her face, his fingers touched her cheek, and she knew that he was gonna kiss her. Now wouldn't it be annoying to Santiago if she messed around with Jack although he had just warned her off it? _Oh I most surely wanna antagonize him_, she thought, _and maybe I even wanna kiss Jack. Or should I resist?_

"Stop it." she said all of a sudden.

He looked at her perplexedly as he hadn't done anything reprehensible yet… only thought about it. "What's up?"

"Well, it might be the opportune moment but it's definitely not the opportune location- we should leave the wreck. There're too many corpses around."

"Oh!" He raised his eyebrows and gave her an ambiguous glance. "Ye're lucky that the Pearl's anchored in a small cove not far away from here by chance. Fancy to come aboard with me?"

"Aye, and I'd love to see Santiago's face when he finds out."

Jack's smile froze. "D'ye mean ye're only comin' with me 'cause ye wanna annoy Alf? Why not hit him over the head with his past 'n ask him to explain this to you? I'm sure he's got reasons…"

"'cause I just can't stand seeing him. Besides, he's lost any right to tell me what's right or wrong, to judge me or- ah, I simply won't take anything from him anymore!"

He could understand her quite well. But no matter how you looked on it he still had problems with her accompanying him only to annoy Alf. That was on his mind more than it should be since he'd never wondered **why** women went with him (of course he didn't include the ones he'd paid for company). However, he was quite sure that no woman had ever done it for **defiance**. Somehow he felt that this wasn't right, that wasn't enough. He wanted more. "So ye're sure it's the only reason?"

Rowan just shrugged and looked at him like asking _what else did you expect_?

"Well… how 'bout love?" He couldn't believe it- had he really said that? The words had escaped his mouth before he even realized that they had been in his mind a long time. Now this was strange.

"Come on Captain Sparrow ye're surely not asking me to come aboard yer ship 'cause ye've fallen in love with me." she replied in a mocking tone obviously not believing either what she'd just heard.

"No. I mean yes. Am I not?" He was bewildered and didn't know which one was the right answer. Was he in love with her? In any case he wanted to kiss her but he'd wanted to kiss many women before so this might not be the best clue. However, this could be a promising start and maybe he'd find out more later on. She was just too close to him to wonder about such things and her lips looked much too tempting to resist… His lips were only about an inch away from hers when he suddenly heard the disturbing sound of footsteps on deck. Whoever the intruders were- this was definitely **not** the opportune moment to intrude.

Scarlett backed away from him and quickly drew her sword. "Yer men?" she inquired in a low voice.

He shook his head. _His men_ wouldn't have dared to disobey his orders. "Don't do anything stupid luv. I'm gonna have a look and be back soon. Don't run away."

-

Scarlett watched Jack Sparrow walking up the companions way, shaking her head. Bloody scallywag, she thought yet she couldn't prevent a smile from curling up her lips. He irritated her most of the time, was charming sometimes but nevertheless a pain in the neck as he was much too full of himself usually. Today he'd been a bit different though. She had appreciated his comfort and it had felt quite good being close to him and maybe it wasn't only for defiance that she'd wanted to kiss him.

All of a sudden she had an uneasy feeling that something was dreadfully wrong. She couldn't see what was happening on deck but she heard muffled voices and people scurrying around. Too many people since Jack was on his own. _And nearly unarmed_, she added mentally when she caught sight of his sword still stuck in the door. Grabbing it she followed him cautiously.

Startled she saw that he was encircled by a group of five persons in uniform who threatened him with their swords, and he could only defend himself only with his mad wit and some big gestures. It was strange- these people were neither English, Spanish nor French soldiers. They wore grey uniforms without any insignia and of a kind she had never seen in the Caribbean before. Nevertheless they seemed to have a reason to threaten Jack. Immediately her pirate soul yelled out that she had to interfere and help him.

She called his name and from then on all seemed to happen at the same time. Jack managed to grab the sword she had thrown to him but he didn't seem too happy to see her at deck. He gesticulated dramatically with one hand as if he wanted her to go back downstairs while parrying an attack of the soldiers. Of course she had no intention to stay away from a good fight at all when he was slightly overtaxed with five opponents at the same time. She would have loved to take over one or two of them. Unfortunately she didn't get that far as someone foiled her plans by grabbing her from behind and pointing a cold piece of metal to her head.

"Lower your weapon, Sparrow!" a cold voice shouted- Norrington's voice.

Immediately the sound of colliding swords died away.

"It's still CAPTAIN Sparrow, Commodore." Jack replied stubborn but he had already lowered his weapon. Unobtrusive he cast his eyes over the deck. _Where's Gibbs?_

Norrington ignored this comment looking thoroughly at his hostage. "So, whom do we have here? Well, if that isn't the lovely Spanish widow formerly known as Senora Rioja. Mylady, I must admit that you've changed disadvantageously since I last had the pleasure of your company."

"Well, and I can't claim yer company was ever a pleasure." Scarlett hissed infuriated most at all with herself that she'd been stupid enough to run into a damned trap. So Jack hadn't wanted to send her under deck but to warn her. Couldn't he have expressed himself more clearly than madly waggling his hand through the air?

"I see. Obviously you rather prefer the company of scum and that corresponds to my plans perfectly." Norrington pressed the barrel of his pistol tighter to her head and addressed Jack. "Your slut is under my control. If you don't want me to shoot her I'll recommend you'd better give me your compass **right now**!"

Jack sighed. "Commodore, we've had it all before. Why d'ye think I've changed me mind?"

"Because I am gonna shoot your whore if you don't change your mind."

"Yeah, ye just mentioned it. But why d'ye think I care about her? If she's a whore like ye said I can easily find another one in Tortuga."

Norrington got impatient but Scarlett knew that he was only bluffing anyway. Though he appeared to be ruthless it was still against his education and good manners to harm a woman. That fool hadn't even released the catch of his pistol yet! But did Jack knew it too? She was glad that up till now he had remained uncompromising especially since she now knew what Norrington wanted from him. His compass. Well, of course not just any compass but probably the compass that doesn't point north. The compass which leads to the Isla de Muerta. She didn't want to imagine what a led-astray commodore and a mad magician hoped to find in these caves- certainly not only silver and gold. So she had to do something to surprise Norrington before things could get worse. Assuming that he wouldn't expect a woman becoming violet she rammed her elbow into his stomach with full force, making him gasp. She used his moment of shock to whirl around on one leg kicking the pistol from his hands with the other. Free again she tried to get far away from Norrington and closer to Jack when the sound of many cocked guns caused her to freeze in motion. Slowly she turned around looking to the afterdeck where at least twenty of these strange-uniformed soldiers aimed their guns at her. Apparently she hadn't achieved anything except impressing Jack. Fantastic.

"Don't worry luv, 't was worth tryin'."

Unfortunately, Norrington didn't see it this way as he was really pissed now. He seemed to have forgotten all propriety and how to treat a woman because he gave vent to his anger and punched her so fiercely that she nearly knocked out.

A wild pain exploded in Jack's heart but since he was used to keep his thoughts to himself his face didn't show any feeling. It had never been so hard to keep composure though. No matter how he twisted and turned it, it all came down to the same problem. **She **was his problem. He was infatuated with her, was in love with her- loved her? Well, in any case he just would have liked to grab Norrington by the throat and smash his arrogant face, but that wasn't very wise since bloody Norrington needn't to know how much he cared about her. Besides, there were too many of his grey-dressed vassals around who surely would be against this idea. Maybe it was best to negotiate.

"Commodore you've already spoiled me day so I recommend ye let her go free and we'll forget about it, savvy?"

Norrington flashed a glance at him that could kill or at least scare any man but Captain Jack Sparrow. Nevertheless, even he felt a shiver running down his spine when he saw these eyes. They were supposed to be blue but now they'd turned black.

"Sparrow, you daft fool, didn't I make myself clear? **I** am the one who sets the terms and since **I** am also the one who has a leverage **I** recommend that you do what **I** tell you. So hand over your compass, **now**."

"Ts, never thought the Royal Navy 'd ever be in such need of compasses that they're even trying to rob pirates to get some." Jack shrugged and started to search his pockets.

"I warn you! Don't try to make a fool of me! You know exactly which compass I want."

"Don't do it, Jack!" Rowan cried out. "He's…"

Another hard slap interrupted her words before she could tell more.

"Women are only allowed to speak when they're asked to." Norrington informed her and closed his hand on her hair, yanking her head upward. She spat at him but a tug on her hair reminded her once again that she was scarcely in the position to quarrel with him. To clarify this he drew a dagger and caressed her cheek with it before he addressed Jack. "It's your choice, Sparrow. Doesn't she have a pretty face? Now, wouldn't it be a pity if I'd cut it to pieces beyond recognition just because you are stubborn and disobedient?"

Jack had to swallow hard not to lose his serenity, not to lay his heart open for all to see. He would have done anything Norrington asked of him if only that bastard wouldn't harm her. Yet none could ever guess his inner turmoil since his face had become an inscrutable mask and his voice sounded like usual, bold with an undertone of mockery. "Juss why d'ye make such a fuss 'bout a compass that doesn't point north as ye laughed 'bout it when ye saw it first."

"However, I want that compass** now**."

"Unfortunately I haven't got it 'ere with me. Must have left it aboard the Pearl. So release Rowan and we'll bring ye a compass that doesn't point north, aye?"

"Jack, oh Jack you're really amusing me. Just what makes you think I could agree on that?" Norrington said nearly cheerfully before his face froze again and he looked at Jack with cold, black eyes. "I tell you something and I will only tell you once; so better mark my words. I give you three days to meet me at the same island of the Caicos where I've lain in wait for you before. You hand over the compass and in return I release your whore. Did I make myself clear?"

"He's gonna trick ye, don't ye see?" Rowan yelled in spite of the fact that Norrington would hit her again for speaking when not asked to; he had already lifted his hand.

"Nah, I wouldn't do it if I were you." It was the calmness in Jack's voice which made Norrington hesitate and to stare at the pirate in disbelieve.

"I thought I'd made myself clear."

"Almost, Commodore. Am I right that you're in desperate need of a compass that doesn't point north?" Jack scarcely noticed Norrington's nodding since he tried to catch Rowan's gaze. _Please look at me and don't do anything stupid. Trust me. _When he continued speaking it sounded more soberly and not so slurred like usually. "Well, if you really do want something from me you better take care that you don't harm your leverage. So return her inviolate or our accord will fall through. I certainly have no interest in a disfigured whore."

"Three days." That was all Commodore James Norrington replied before he barked orders to his gray-clad men. There was something strange about the way they moved; Jack had noticed it before when they'd threatened him with swords in their hands. All of them acted the same, like puppets on a string and just as emotionless. At first glance they looked like normal people but somehow he sensed that they weren't, and that sent an ice-cold shiver down his spine. He just couldn't stand the thought of Rowan being in their custody but there was nothing he could do about it. And it even got worse. Norrington flicked his fingers and a ship materialized next to the wreck, covered in patches of fog that had hidden it. It was a bulky, grey galleon with lots of canons. The Phantom.

"Release the old man. We don't need him anymore." Norrington told his men and grinned to Jack when someone tossed Gibbs from the afterdeck; it was an evil grin. "We have a better leverage."

"Sorry Captain… couldn't warn ye…" Gibbs gasped for breath looking remorseful although there wasn't any reason for it. Sure, he was supposed to keep watch but Jack just couldn't blame him for not noticing a ghost ship that appeared out of nowhere and was shrouded by magic. A ship that couldn't be found until Norrington wished so; in three days. Yet three days were too long- much too long for him to stand knowing Rowan in the custody of odd marionette-soldiers and an occasionally black-eyed commodore. He wouldn't let her down.

-

"Once, we had an appointment for dinner but apparently you weren't too keen to keep it _Mylady_." Though Norrington spat out the last word with disgust he pointed invitingly to the table; it was set for two with finest china and crystal glasses shining in the light of two big chandeliers. There were also plates with plenty of delicious smelling food and a carafe of cooled wine. "We really should make this up today, don't you think so? Please, take a seat."

Scarlett looked at him in bewilderment. She would have been inclined to reject his offer if she were in a better position but with her hands tied and guarded by two of his humble gray servants, who looked like they'd love to shove her into a chair, she'd rather give way.

"Unfortunately you've proven too hot-tempered lately therefore you shall have to remain tied. I'm sure you will understand that." Norrington sat down and started eating, carefully dabbing his lips with a linen napkin whenever he drank a sip of wine. After a while he looked at Scarlett again. "I swear the roast-beef is delicious. Are you hungry, _Mylady_? Well, maybe you like to tell me a bit about Sparrow's escape from jail. Who planned it? Where did he hide? What role did you play in this little game? Did you spy for your lover? If your answers please me you mayhap get something to eat and a glass of wine."

Scarlett didn't bother answering but remained silent, unwilling to communicate. She wouldn't correct him about underestimating her, and he did obviously underestimate her. These things happen so she let him keep his illusions. Anyway, he wouldn't have believed the truth even if she told him because there were no heroines in his noble world, only heroes. Though he kept on babbling she wasn't listening to him anymore, instead she cast her eyes around the cabin. The room was furnished luxuriously and very British- at first look. Yet when you looked at it again one could see that it was as dirty and neglected as the rest of the ship except the canons; they were polished to gleam dangerously. The furniture was covered with a thin layer of dust, cobwebs were hanging from the corners of the ceiling and the crumbs of whatever on the floor were likely to attract rats… or cockroaches. She saw some of them crawling over the table and, at once, lost appetite though she'd been hungry before. Norrington didn't seem to notice- or didn't mind- because he kept on eating like an almost starved man. Of course he wasn't. He just wanted to prove that he could eat and drink as much as he wanted, and that she would get neither food nor drink until she was willing to cooperate. She knew that he would have loved to beat the truth outta her with his cat-o'-nine-tails he had so neatly placed on the table next to his plate like an unspoken warning. She also knew he wouldn't dare to use it on her, thanks to Jack's warning; that, they both knew. But, there were still other forms of violence; more subtle ones that got by without strokes or bruises. He had already proved it when they had come aboard. _'Search her for weapons'_, he had ordered, and his gray-clad crew had done so; they had searched her thoroughly, shameless, but definitely not interested in female flesh. However, Norrington had watched this procedure ambiguously smiling. Well, she couldn't have cared less since she surely won't be intimidated by a guy who eats **cockroaches**! Fascinated she stared at his fork while he bolted down some beans plus the cockroach, chewing.

"Abacas de comer una cucaracha." she informed him politely. It was hard not to burst out into hysterical laughter because he seemed to be quite content with her answer.

"Ha, it's Spanish, isn't it? So I was right to assume that the Spanish captain was your companion and helped you to free Sparrow. Therefore I was also right to kill him and his crew of miscreants." he boasted proudly.

He ought not have said it since she had already suspected that hewas the one to blame for the massacre aboard the Gavina. Yet hearing it straight out of his mouth was quite a shock. Escobar had been such a kind man. If only she would have known then what she knew now, she never would have asked him for help. The price he'd paid was just too much, too senseless.

"You're gonna pay for this, one day." she told Norrington, and her voice sounded calmer than she felt inwardly. He just laughed.

"Oh, now **that** really scares me. A little whore is threatening the Commodore- the future **Admiral**- of the Royal Navy!" All of a sudden his eyes darkened dangerously. He jumped to his feet and dragged her off the chair, one hand reaching for her throat while the other one grabbed her hair. Unceremoniously he tugged her head backwards and forced her to look into his eyes. "Don't go too far, slut. Don't forget that you're still under my control, and don't trust that Jack's warning impressed me at all." He tightened his grip on her throat but she just looked at him without a flicker, knowing that he wouldn't kill her right now. Eventually he let go of her throat and touched her breast; with a mean smile on his face he pinched her nipple. It was meant to be a warning. "Well, actually I don't even need to beat you; there are still other ways to break your defiant pride- in that you're very similar to Sparrow. Don't get me wrong, personally I am not at all interested in a pirate's whore but my crew might be."

Scarlett thought about it and doubted it, yet she was wise enough to keep her mouth shut. At least as long as she was in Norrington's cabin. Later though, after she was fortunate enough to be dismissed from his company, she gave it a try on the two vassals as they escorted her to the brig.

"Hey guys, if ye wouldn't shove me 'round like that I could be much nicer to you… if you know what I mean?"

"Mhmpf." one of them mumbled.

She made eyes at them and staked everything on one card. "Ye're two handsome guys, both of you pretty and strong… don't you feel like having a bit o' fun with me, forgetting yer duties for a while?"

"We obey and serve our master." answered the other tonelessly without showing any emotions- simply because he didn't have any. He untied her hands, thrust her into the brig and locked the door, walking away like a puppet-on-strings.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Though she would have been able to match them if they'd tried to take advantage of the situation she was glad that she didn't have to. Gosh, she was so tired. Any other day it would have been a triumph to see that she'd guessed right, that Norringtons servants really were scarcely human but just some marionettes subjected to his will. Yet today, today too much had happened; she had faced death, betrayal and humiliation. Escobar had only died due to her folly and Santiago… well, Santiago wasn't to be trust anymore. He had cheated her all these years by _failing to mention_ that he was more than two-hundred years old and the Slayer of Granada. She would never be able to forgive him but, at the moment, this should be the least of her problems. At the moment, she had to face the facts; she was aboard a ship that was shrouded by magic and therefore couldn't be found until bloody Norrington wished so. There was nothing she could do about it. If only she wouldn't have gone to the wreck. If only she had told somebody where she was going. _If, if, if_. Now, none of her friends knew where she was, that she was held prisoner in the brig of a dirty, rotten ghost-ship. It was a dark and damp place; water dropped in from an unnoticed leak, wetting the straw that covered the floor. And there were rats. She could hear them scurrying in the straw, the sound of tiny claws scratching over wooden planks when they're hustling and bustling around.

Scarlett crouched onto a small bench, arms wrapped around her knees. She felt frustrated and mentally exhausted. None knew where she was- none but the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow. He of all people had been the only one who'd offered at least a little comfort today, and she had accepted it willingly. She had even wanted to kiss him before things went dreadfully wrong. Thinking about it she wasn't that sure anymore if defiance had really been the only reason, but then again she didn't allow herself to let her thoughts roam into that direction. There's no need for it. She wasn't a dreamy girl waiting for a hero to come and save her, and besides, Jack definitely wasn't the typical hero. Yet, he was a hard man to predict and she still hadn't figured him out; there was more behind his madness than meets the eye. What would he do? Probably he would do something unexpected since he was always good for a surprise. But would he be stupid enough to hand over the compass to Norrington for her sake? After all is said and done he would, that's what she feared. And then things would become worse. It was too much for today. Her eyes were burning with unshed tears she couldn't hold back anymore and then she finally gave in, weeping silently.

Later, when she heard a key unlocking the door, her first thought was that it would be Norrington, that he would try again to break her pride. Relieved that her hair had fallen over her face like a veil so that none could have taken notice of her moment of weakness she wiped away the last tears and prepared for a fight. But it wasn't Norrington.

"Luv, are ye alright?"

"Jack!" She whirled up and hugged him, kissing him hard without thinking. Then she realized what she had just done and stepped back as far as he let her. "What're you doing here? You can't be here. You can't possibly have found this ship…"

"I didn't need to find the ship 'cause I was already aboard **before** it could sail away with you in Norrington's control. I just couldn't let ye down luv, savvy." Jack said cheerfully as he had really liked her welcome. It had been an unexpected yet not unwanted surprise therefore he didn't understand why she backed away from him now and why she shot him a furious gaze.

"Ye certainly mean ye didn't wanna leave yer **whore** to Norrington, isn't it so?"

"Ah, that. Well, let him believe yer my whore as long as he doesn't know who ye really are, Captain Rowan Scarlett. He may have heard yer name before." He reached out a hand to touch her face, stroking her gently. "Didn't mean to offend ye luv, just wanted to know ye're safe."

"I'm sorry, Jack." How many times had she already said it today? Suddenly she felt like a fool and started shaking all over.

"Luv, are ye alright?" He asked once again, taking her in his arms when she merely nodded, still trembling. There where so many things he would have liked to tell her if only there would be words for it. He remembered how startled he'd been when he came here first and the brig had been empty. Everything he could imagine Norrington doing to her had been worse than his worst nightmares, and it was just a relief to hold her tight now. Yet, she had been weeping; he could still see the signs of tears on her skin. "What's happened? Did he hurt ye?"

"No." She shook her head and shrugged. "It's just Escobar and Santiago… all that's happened, you know." Well, she actually didn't expect him to understand but she slowly realized that it wasn't really wise what they were doing here, and with that she didn't mean the danger of a kiss. That would be rather welcome but definitely not here, where Norrington's men could pop up every minute. "We should leave this place."

They didn't get far, just as far as the door, and then they froze to their tracks when someone laughed mockingly, clapping hands.

"Lovely, ah that's really lovely. The infamous Captain Jack Sparrow is so fond of his red-haired whore that he follows her everywhere, even to the brig of my ship." Norrington said still laughing, but it was a cold and sardonic laugh. He gave a wave and some of his men approached with guns in their hands.

"Commodore, why can ye never wait for the opportune moment? I swear, we were just on our way to give ye the compass, honestly." Jack smirked and reached for the pockets of his coat to pull out a compass. He opened it and stared at it for a while. "Well, it doesn't point north…"

Norrington grabbed the compass greedily, checked it, and put into his pockets with a content impression on his face; so content that it was almost alarming.

"Jack, you shouldn't have done so." Scarlett gasped utterly shocked but he ignored her protest and turned to Norrington once more.

"Now mate, you can thank me by givin' us one day's head start just like in good ol' times, aye? What d'ye say?"

"What are you prattling on about? I would never give you one day's head start nor have I ever. You Sparrow have an appointment with the noose and this time you're going to keep it. This time you're going to be accompanied by this little whore you're so fond of, therefore enjoy your last days. All I will grant you is that you're going to be undisturbed in this cell." With these words he locked the door and walked away.

"Fool! Goddamned daft, mad, stupid fool!" Scarlett yelled infuriated and gave him a hart push that nearly sent him to the floor. "Ah, you've made such a great job. Now we're both captured and bloody Norrington has the compass, and therefore we don't have anything to bargain with anymore. Great, really great. You know, I really like it here. I've always wanted to be in a bad smelling, dirty cell with rotten straw on the floor and rats floating on the surface of foul water that drops in from somewhere. Dead rats, by the way!" Disgusted she picked up one of them and flung it at Jack who had made himself comfortable on the small bench meanwhile. "Well, ye might not care 'bout it and maybe the Pearl's lower deck is as filthy as this one where even rats die in despair but I'm fed up with it. Bloody hell, why did ye come here anyway, if ye're only plan was to mess it all up? Why did ye give that damned compass to Norrington instead of…"

"Instead of what? Letting him shoot ye or cut yer face to pieces or torture ye? Nah luv that's too much to ask for, even for me. All I've ever wanted was to save yer life so please stop throwing dead rats at me."

"Ha! But we're still in this brig and this rotten ship is bound for Port Royal to take us to the gallows. Is that's what you call saving my life?"

He smirked. "Luv, you've forgotten one very important thing. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

"How could I ever forget that! Gosh, I really hate ye when ye're so full of yerself, a selfish and arrogant wanker."

"Now you've hurt my feelings."

"Ha!" she sneered, taking it for granted that this was a jest. Only after a while she realized that maybe she'd really gone too far; maybe he really had feelings that could be hurt but she was not gonna say _sorry_ again. "Okay, **Captain Jack Sparrow**, I assume ye've got a marvellous plan to get us outta here."

"Aye." He outstretched an arm, opened his hand and revealed a key. "Ye can take it 'n walk outta here on yer own or ye could try to trust me."

Scarlett was tempted to take the key and walk away, leaving him imprisoned. But that was just an ill-thought after an enervating day, nothing she would really do. Recently, they had gone through a lot together and there was no use denying that she had become quite fond of him- though it still wasn't reasonable to trust him blindly.

"So, put yer cards on the table, Jack. Why did ye give that compass to Norrington?"

"Stupid wench." he sighed slightly amused. "Do you really think I gave him the right compass?"

"But you gave him a compass that doesn't point north."

"Aye, I gave him **a** compass that doesn't point north but not the one that gives up the bearings of the Isla de Muerta, savvy."

She looked at him confused.

"Luv, it's quite simple to manipulate a compass not to point north."

"Oh, never thought of that." she admitted and felt like a fool once again; once again she had misjudged him thoroughly.

"Now, do me a favour and don't say ye're sorry 'cause it gets boring to hear. Instead, tell me why it bothers ye that Norrington could go to the Isla de Muerta. Don't ye think it's time to put **your** cards on the table, luv?"

Scarlett shuddered. So much about trust. Did she really have to talk about mad magicians and a weird chalice once again? Well, apparently she had to. She couldn't expect Jack to come out with something, gaining nothing but a shrewd smile in return. It was all up to her now. Suddenly she longed for the shelter of his embrace and cuddled next to him on the bench while telling her story, and he didn't hesitate to put an arm around her shoulder, giving her a stronghold against all kinds of insanity she revealed.

"Phew. Well, that's really interesting. I never imagined little Ratbone to be a mighty magician but I've already wondered why Norrington's so completely out of his wits, doing things he usually wouldn't do. Ye know, usually he's not like this. He's stiff- aye, that for sure- always concerned about the law and how to serve it best but he has never been a sadist. Probably he's possessed. He didn't even remember the day's head start he'd granted me once."

"Does it change yer plan, now, that ye know it?"

Jack shook his head, jingling beads in his hair. He reached out for her and touched her face. "This ship had never altered its course, didn't you notice? We're still heading for the Caicos. Dunno why but that's a fact."

"Probably it's a trap and they're after the Pearl. Wouldn't Norrington expect an escape attempt? He will suspect that the Pearl is never far away from where you are, sailing these waters and waiting for ye. Say, d'ye know where the powder magazine is?"

He understood at once what she had in mind though it was hard to believe that such a pretty face could make up such deadly plans. However, that was one reason he'd fallen in love with her. "So ye wanna blow up this damned ship, d'ye?"

"Aye." She shot him a wry smile. "As far as I know there are no human beings aboard thus we shouldn't have any scruples doing so, savvy?"

Jack smiled broadly and showed her the way.

The fuse was already burning when they reached the longboats and Norrington's humble servants discovered their escape. Scarlett grabbed Jack's sword, ready for a fight, while Jack tried to drag her to the rail, cursing. Worse than being cursed was only being in love with a mad woman who didn't even give a damn about his worries for her. Of course she didn't know because he couldn't tell her, because he didn't understand it himself. He was Captain Jack Sparrow and his only love up to now had had three masts and black sails. He had never longed for the woman of his dreams, the perfect companion; he had never **begged** to fall in love with her. Yet it had happened. And now she drove him out of his mind.

"**Rowan, come here**!" Jack yelled, dragging her once again to his side. At the same time he struggled to get the longboat over the rail and into the sea. It crashed down just before the first explosion shook the Phantom. He got hold of Scarlett's waist, lifted her up and jumped off board with her. Only when the waves closed over their heads he remembered that he had forgotten to ask her if she could swim at all.

They sank for a long time. Meanwhile, still sinking, Scarlett wrestled to get free from his tight grip and nearly knocked him out doing so. Immediately he let go of her, realizing firstly that they're probably both going to drown if he didn't, and secondly that she surely could swim. _Alf's education_, he thought and swam upward, following her. Their heads broke through the waves at the same time, both of them were spitting out water and panting for breath. Scarlett was the first to recover and she turned to him angrily.

"What the hell…"

Hell was the key-word because that broke loose before she could even finish her sentence. There was a loud, thundering bang followed by the sound of splintering wood. Then the night was on fire. Glowing ash fell from the sky and died away in the sizzling water; some bigger pieces of what once had been a ship rained down and just kept on burning like torches on dark waves. The sea was in seething unrest when the remains of the Phantom went down, creating a suction that almost gulped everything and everybody nearby. It was really a challenge to stay alive during the aftermath of an exploded ship.

After a hard struggle not to drown in heavy swells, Scarlett's fingers finally got hold of something solid… it was one of the longboats, floating upside-down on the water. She tried to climb onto it but it behaved like a wild, untamed horse and just threw her off, turning around again. Actually it looked much better this way, much more like a boat instead of a piece of wreck that the sea had spared by chance. But where was Jack? Relieved she saw him swimming towards the boat and helped him to get into it. Finally they were safe.

"Wow, this was fun!" she said breathless and gave him a kiss. "Apparently it never gets boring with ye."

Jack lay down beside her and couldn't help but laugh. "Ha! Usually I'm the one who's considered to be daft but ye're much better and surpass me by far."

"I daresay it's a compliment."

Aye, that was the way it was meant to be although he couldn't tell her straight from the heart. He fell silent. Sometime in the early hours of the next day the sun was rising like a glowing red ball on the eastern horizon, painting the world in colours again. It was only then when they saw an island. It was green, nearby, and the current carried their boat right to its beach. But in spite of it all there was no denying that they were still stranded on some unknown island.

**Ellenar **So things might get better for love sick Jack and there's nothing Santiago can do about it. **And I want more reviewers next year**!!!!


	10. 9 Every scar has its story

Thanks to my reviewers, have fun.

**9. Every scar has its story**

_Why do I always have to end up on a godforsaken island?_, Jack wondered when he pulled the boat ashore. Yet, things had improved. This time he didn't have to stand on the beach and watch Barbossa sail away with his ship; this time the island was bigger and overgrown with dense green. There were trees and bushes that promised shade as well as food, and he could hear various animals rustling in the undergrowth. This time, he still had a boat and the company- well, the company couldn't be any better. Smirking he gazed at Rowan who, right now, shook out her red-wine mane, tiny drops of water glittering in an arc around her. All in all he could be quite happy with the situation because he was stranded on this island with **her**.

Rowan was running her fingers through her hair when she noticed Jack watching her, suddenly also very aware of their situation. They were on a lonely island and there was a certain tension between them; she already knew how this would probably end since they were both grown-up pirates…

"We should have a look around, don't ye think so?" she asked, breaking the silence. They hadn't talked much after they had climbed into the longboat and lain close to each other. Jack only nodded without taking his eyes off her; somehow she felt flattered.

Though the island was quite small they couldn't walk around it due to some high cliffs in its western part. Therefore they concentrated on the area nearby the beach and roamed through the adjacent jungle instead. Soon they discovered one of the loveliest places both of them had ever seen. In midst of green trees a rock rose up, spilling out clear, cool water into a small pond at its feet. The pond itself was surrounded by soft grass and separated from the beach only by a few palms; sitting there, one could still see the sea. Without needing to talk about it they both knew that this was the perfect place to make a camp, so they laid down in the grass, exhausted from last day's adventure, and fell asleep as soon as they allowed themselves to rest

When Rowan awoke the sun was high in the sky and she was alone; Jack was gone. For an instant a shock born of mistrust flashed through her- _would he dare to take the boat and leave me here?_ She jumped to her feet but even before she could see Jack strolling the beach, collecting driftwood, she already knew how stupid that thought had been.

All I've ever wanted was to save yer life… 

This, he had said to her in the brig and she knew that it was true; she just had to remember the way he looked at her, the pain in his eyes when Norrington had punched her. No, he would never leave her, unless she told him so. Somehow this was a good feeling, and she couldn't believe that she'd been so foolish to mistrust him for a second.

She knelt down at the pond. With cupped hands she splashed water into her face to wash away the salt and her sorrows.

"No need to drink water when we've got rum." Jack said from behind. She turned around and saw him standing there in his typical way, swaying, a broad smile on his face, arms outstretched like a welcome. In his hands he held two bottles. "An' there're even more in a wooden box down at the beach. Now, what d'ye say, luv?"

"Let's open the bottle."

Rowan was cheerful until she saw the label on the bottle; it was the same rum she'd given Escobar. If she'd ever needed more evidence that Norrington had killed the Spaniard, that was it. Surely a box with finest Jamaican rum wouldn't swim from the wreck of the Gavina to this island of all places, so it must have been a board the Phantom…

"What's wrong with ye? Don't ye like the rum?"

"I'm just thinking 'bout how Norrington boasted that he had killed Escobar." She looked at the bottle once more, then shrugged and took a long swig. "To Escobar."

"To Escobar." Jack clinked bottles with her before he drank as well. They sat in silence for a moment. It was an uncomfortable silence since they both knew that there was a lot to talk about, for instance, they couldn't stay on this island, drinking rum. They had to get away from here and…

…well, after all is said and done they had to go back to Tortuga and talk with Santiago. That, Rowan knew though she didn't like the idea. But things were already too far gone for her to handle them on her own. Norrington was a sadist out of control and maybe possessed, hypocrite Ratbone was a mad magician, and there was also the chalice to be considered, always the chalice. Therefore she needed Santiago's help. She swore to herself that this would be the last time because she just couldn't forgive him; it would never be the same between them anymore. She looked at Jack who was watching her silently, apparently guessing what was going on in her mind.

"I know, ye hate to do it but there's no other way, aye? So we're gonna return to Tortuga 'n then ye can hit Alf in the head with the book first before ye ask questions."

"Ha, the book! I wonder if it's still there."

"Nah, it's not." Jack flashed her a conspiring smile. "The book's aboard the Pearl and the Pearl will soon be cruising these waters, as I've ordered. All we have to do now, is to light a bonfire on the beach so that they'll actually find us, savvy."

She raised her eyebrows and nodded in agreement. Apparently he'd arranged everything perfectly. "Thanks, Jack."

He immediately put her off. "No need to thank me 'cause I've probably got my own motives for it. Think about it luv. We're on a lonely island, just you and me…"

"I've noticed. So, what d'ye want? I've saved yer life, ye've saved mine- I think we're square now." Her voice sounded harsher than she wanted, so she wanted to say sorry once again; if only she could find the right words for it.

"Don't worry. I surely won't do anything unwanted, and most surely nothin' Alf could be annoyed 'bout. He's not gonna tell me once again that I'm puttin' ye into danger."

She looked at him confused. "What?"

"Well, I remember Alf saying something like, _I won't allow you to put her into any danger once again._"

First, Rowan was puzzled, and then she couldn't help but laugh. Oh no, he had gotten it all wrong. It had been a warning, that's for sure, and one should always consider Santiago's warnings to be serious. Nevertheless it had been something completely different the Spaniard had alluded to. Another time, another event- and she still hadn't any clue what this had to do with Captain Jack Sparrow. But when he asked her why she was laughing she suddenly fell silent, thinking about the event Santiago had actually meant and that wasn't funny anymore. Actually, a shiver ran down her spine even when she only thought about it.

Jack noticed her changed mood. Since he didn't know what else to do he clinked bottles with her again and had a good gulp before he dared to ask what was troubling her.

"Nothing but my own folly." She laughed bitterly now, wondering if she should tell him the whole story. Rum- rum might help. After that, it was easier; she cleared her throat and started to talk. "Well, ye've known Santiago- or **Alf**, like ye prefer to call him- for a long time so ye should know his oddities. One day, many years ago, he was in one of his peculiar moods once again, watching the sky and the sea completely absent. Then, all of a sudden, he jumped up and drivelled something incomprehensible like_, the balance of the universes are disturbed_ and that he had to go 'n fix them. I really didn't get what he was all about since he left in a rather mysterious way. He just disappeared. Of course not without giving me a warning to stay aboard my ship, no matter what happens. And of course I ignored it when we came to Tortuga. _Hey, this is my home port, nothing's gonna happen to me here_, I thought. But I was wrong. I didn't know it then, but I was wrong 'cause Tortuga wasn't the same anymore. There was more violence, more plundering 'n raping than ever before. Barbossa was there. He'd come to Tortuga with his new ship, the Black Pearl."

"My ship." Jack said silently. He remembered the mutiny and how Barbossa had marooned him on that island, sailing away with **his** ship; it was still a very vividly memory. Bloody Barbossa! But this was Rowan's story now and he wanted to her hear out as much as he feared what he might hear. "Did he try to track ye down when ye came to Tortuga.?"

"No. It was the other way round." She sighed and wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling cold. Although it was still a bright Caribbean afternoon the shadows under the trees seemed to increase, becoming unbearable. Glancing at Jack she stood up. "Don't ye think we should light the bonfire before it gets dark?"

He raised his brows but then just shrugged. Actually he would have done anything if only she would continue and it was only when the fire was burning that she did so.

"Barbossa didn't need to track me down. **I** sought him and I found him. It was daft- that, I really do know today. Then, I only had revenge in mind. I actually thought I could defeat him when I challenged him."

"You are daft! Challenging Barbossa! Damned, but **he was already cursed** at the time."

"No, ye're wrong there. The curse was took affect only after the last coin of Aztec gold was spent- but that's something I also learned later. At that time, Barbossa was still as vulnerable as we are now. We crossed blades then and I daresay I'd done a bloody good job. Actually, I'd managed to disarm him once although the glory didn't last long. Of course he was a pirate and therefore he fought with all the tricks an evil mind could think up. Suddenly I was the one in distress and he took advantage of the situation; he wanted to teach me a lesson… He knocked me down and raped me, and after he was done he just stabbed me, leaving me to die there in that alley."

That much she told Jack, and she could hear him drawing in a sharp, horrified gasp. Yet she hadn't told him all because there were still no words to describe the pain. Not here, not now. Never. Barbossa had tried to tear her apart with his fury, he'd tried to break her… but she hadn't even flickered an eye and had only laughed at him, feeling indestructible. That **short **moment of pain just couldn't wreck her, although it would stay in her mind forever. And before Jack could start pitying her she had better carry on with her tale since it wasn't over yet.

"Of course I didn't die. I didn't do Barbossa that favour though I must admit it was none of my own doing. I passed out for a while and when I finally woke up again I couldn't remember anything. I knew not where I was, who I was, or why I was. First was the easiest thing to find out. Dark faces watched me with excitement and admiration, calling me Goddess-Who-Died-To-Live, which explained the second. Apparently I was in a Maroon camp somewhere in the middle of a jungle and I was a goddess**, their Goddess**. The Goddess-Who-Died-To-Live and who would lead their rebellion to victory because I had survived death. I almost believed it when I looked at myself; I had fair skin compared to theirs, a mane of red hair and bright eyes. I was so completely different that I really almost believed it. If only the pain hadn't been, the pain and the awful weakness of my body and soul; a goddess shouldn't feel so terribly weak. Yet it was nice being a goddess. They honoured me, gave me food, drink and shelter; they brought me flowers to adorn my hair as well as many other gifts. It was nice as long as I knew not who I really was. Then, one day, I noticed that I was pregnant and with that realisation suddenly all my forgotten memories flooded back into my head again. Bloody hell, I had landed myself in a real mess. In the weeks that followed I tried all I could to get rid of the unwanted get and to explain the Maroons that I wasn't a goddess but a pirate. None of it worked. They still claimed that I was their goddess and if I really wasn't divine my **son **would be because I received **him** in the moment of death. What logic. Although I didn't know anything about the curse then, I definitely knew that a child of Barbossa's seeds could only become a monster; and I definitely didn't wanna give birth to a monster. Well, I'll be brief. Weeks turned into month and I felt increasingly like a stranded whale; I looked like one by that time. The Maroons still worshiped me but I was also their prisoner now and they watched over every move I made, taking damned good care that nothing could happen to my child who was supposed to be their saviour, their avenger. But I just didn't wanna become a plaything in their war. I only wanted to be myself again, to be free and sail the seas again, and to get rid of that **thing** in my still swelling belly. Ironically the Goddess prayed to all Gods she knew and it was a very sardonic one who finally answered my prayers. One day, I finally had a miscarriage. Ha, I've waited for it such a long time but I certainly didn't want it to kill me. Once again I ended up almost bleeding to death and this time there was nothing the Maroons could do about it. I really would have died in a damned jungle if Santiago hadn't found me after all is said and done. As always, he was the saviour when needed and he had already proved to be the perfect rescuer saviour before. Not only that he healed me but he'd apparently saved Bootstrap Bill Turner from Davy Jones' locker where Barbossa had sent him…"

"Bill." Jack had been unusually quiet for a long time and hadn't done anything but listen to her story. Now, he just whispered one single word, a name, and it sent unwanted thoughts spinning in his head. He knotted some loose ends into a pattern he didn't like at all, slowly comprehending that there was a certain link, that somehow their fates had entwined before, a long time ago. This sudden knowledge made him gasp in despair. Utterly shocked he jumped to his feet and turned away from the fire, turned away from her. His face was pale when he stared at the dark sea yet he was completely untouched of its beauty. There were still too many thoughts rattling his head; thoughts he could have cared less for if only he wouldn't feel what he felt. He really wished to be cursed instead of in love and he winced when her hand gently touched his shoulder. Nevertheless he changed his mind immediately. Her touch… ah, it was such a weird, maddening, wonderful pain of being in love…

"Jack, what's up? Did I shock you with my story?" she asked with a mildly mocking one in her voice.

He shrugged in a half-heartened attempt to shake off her hand and at the same time he was relieved that he failed. Now, he had three choices. He could just whirl around and kiss her- but there was still too much between them so he didn't dare to- alas, it would have been his favourite choice. Of course he could still do what he usually did, and walk away without giving any answers, sealing his heart to everybody. That was his second best choice and probably the one he'd chosen… if it just hadn't been definitely the wrong way to win her heart. So, if he ever wanted a chance, he had to pour out his heart to her and that was something he'd never done before. Therefore he hesitated, feeling unsure. What he had to tell her was also by no means suitable to win her heart… so why did he have to do this at all? It would have been so much easier if he had only walked away.

"Jack?" Her voice was behind him again, sounding troubled now, and her grip became tighter; she wanted him to turn around and face her. That, he didn't do. He just knew that he couldn't bear to look at her when he finally revealed the truth.

"'t was my mistake. All that's happened to ye was only 'cause of my folly; I've trusted Barbossa 'cause he flattered me. I had been too blind to see his real intentions- that had cost me the Pearl and so much more. Alf has been right; it seems I really love to surround myself with scum that says what I wanna hear."

"Oh well, some say that self-knowledge is the first step towards self-improvement but I don't get the rest. What has my folly to do with yours- except that we both tend to be daft from time to time." Rowan lost patience with him. She didn't want to wait any longer that he kindly deigned to turn round to her when she was talking to him; so she stepped in front of him. "Can you please express yourself more clearly?"

It really startled her to see how pale he'd turned and his face showed all of his despair. For a moment he tried to pretend that everything was alright with him and he made one of his big gestures but then he was slouching and his hands came down helplessly.

"'t was when the mutiny started… I never showed it 'n I never talked 'bout it… but I was scared, Rowan. I've trusted them, all of them, even Barbossa… then, they came to my cabin at night when I was sleeping and they gave me a good beating; some were spitting at me. I didn't understand what was going on. I never thought anything like that could ever happen to me… I mean, after all, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow." He gave her a wry smile before he bit his lips and continued. "At that time, I felt more like an abandoned kid, completely left alone. They marooned me on an island and left me to die- and I, I was scared. Don't ye get it, Rowan? I was scared and in the mess of my emotions I may have called for Alf unwittingly- not aloud but in my head. Do you get it now? It was **because of me** he left ye for. He wasn't there when ye needed him most, when ye needed his protection, 'cause he left ye for me. All that happened to you only transpired because he was searching the Caribbean **for me**. **It was all my fault**."

"Come on Jack, don't blame yerself for my own folly. If I had listened to Santiago's warning and had stayed aboard the Jewel, nothing would have happened. But I was never good in being obedient, and this time I had to pay for it, savvy." It didn't matter to her anymore nor would she ever blame Jack for it- that was just a ridiculous thought. But it was a thought Santiago possibly could have had, and that would at least explain his aversion to Jack- although it was still a ridiculous thought. She put her hands on his shoulders and looked him in the eyes. "We should forget about it, aye? There's no need to wake demons, we'd better drown 'em in rum."

Jack shook his head. "No, I can't. If Alf had succeeded, then maybe, but ye haven't heard me out yet. It was even much worse. I loathe to tell ye though I have to; you have to know it. And I, I will have to live with the consequences."

Despite his harsh and unusually self-critical words, his arms seemed to have their own wits; they simply enclosed her waist without wasting a thought about it. To Rowan it somehow appeared as if the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow might need a hold and that, she granted him with a hidden smile. After all, she felt rather comfortable in his arms meanwhile.

"Well, ye know my story partly. I spent three days on that godforsaken island, drinking rum, and then the rum runners found me- not Alf. It was them who saved me and took me to their hiding-place, and there… let's say I celebrated my new life by all means. You can also say that this had been a long orgy with lots of drinks, drugs and doxies. I took everything I could get 'cause I just wanted to forget, and to my shame I have to admit that I… er, I actually wasn't very pleased when Alf finally showed up there. I also wasn't very pleased that he had Bill in tow, my former 'friend' who hadn't even lifted a finger to help me during the mutiny. I didn't give a shit that Bill had seen his faults by then and had fallen out of favour with Barbossa because of it. At that time, I even wouldn't have minded if he had rotted in Davy Jones's locker for ever and eternal. But Alf had saved him first of all people… Ah, I was completely out of control, then, acting like a madman. I blamed Alf for not saving me when **I** had needed him, for everything that had ever happened to me, and I called Bill a bloody traitor who just didn't deserve to be alive. Finally, I told both of them to piss off and never ever to cross my path again." He sighed, wearily rubbing his eyes, before he gently touched her face. "You see, Santiago's efforts had been in vain, all of them. He just wasted his time with me when he should have protected you instead. I'm so sorry, Rowan, I've never meant to do this to you, honestly."

She sighed; he was such a fool and yet it was really moving how he said that. He was a fool because of her, because he really cared for her. It was only then that she realized she must have fallen in love with him sometime on her way from the wreck of the Gavina up to this island. _Great, now we have two fools on one island_._ Daft idiot, ye should stop looking like a man who'd die for a kiss 'cause if ye wanna kiss me why don't ye just do it, **please**,_ she thought- and then he did.

She felt his lips touching hers; it was a soft touch first and his tongue parted her lips only slightly like an unspoken question, asking for more. And she gave him more; she yielded, inviting him to explore her. It was… well, they had kissed before but then, it had only been for lust born in a wild mood. Now, it was different. Now, his kiss was sweet- although she could still taste the salt of the sea on his lips- and gentle. She hadn't known that he was capable of so much tenderness, and yet there was a passion in his kiss that made her knees turn to jelly. It was incredible, like some sort of homecoming she'd always longed for unknowingly. Ah, it felt so good and right, and she was already yearning for much more… and then it stopped.

No." Jack murmured, his voice hoarse with suppressed desire. "We shouldn't… **you** shouldn't kiss me like that."

She looked at him in disbelieve. "But that's what ye've always wanted, ever since the day we met."

"Aye. No… I mean… ah, it doesn't matter now. Whatever I've once had in mind is of no importance anymore since I don't deserve yer affection, I don't deserve ye. Not after all that I've done to ye, savvy?"

Rowan felt torn between the urgent desire either to bang his head or to kiss him again. She would have favoured the first if his hands wouldn't betray his words. Somehow they had found a way to come beneath her shirt and were now stroking along her spine. Oh, this was good…

"Gimme more of that or lemme go." she moaned. "But don't play around with me."

Jack was a bit bewildered when he noticed what his hands did yet he couldn't move them away; her skin felt so warm and soft. Well, as it seemed things had already gone too far to stop now and besides- he was a pirate, therefore he couldn't possibly turn down a willing woman. And most definitely he wouldn't turn down the woman he loved, he longed for. He kissed her again, gently first, but suppressed desire had bottled up inside both of them for too and they were eager to explore each other, to learn each other with hand, mouth and tongue. _Slowly! _Jack thought all of a sudden before passion could carry him away completely. _It should be something special this time._ He got hold of her hands and urged her to stop whatever she was just doing.

"Take it easy, luv, we've got time. We're on an island where none can disturb us." Jack said smirking while he looked at her naked body; somehow her clothes had miraculously fallen off and lay scattered in the sand now. He reached out one hand to touch her face. "Ye're beautiful, d'ye know?"

Rowan chuckled sheepishly. "'n ye must be struck with blindness, Captain Sparrow."

She didn't chuckle anymore when he kissed her neck, lips and teeth sucking the soft skin. She held her breath and closed her eyes, feeling his mouth wandering further down her neck to her shoulders…

"I'm gonna show ye how beautiful ye are."

He cupped her breasts and when his mouth found its way there, she couldn't help but moan with delight. Her knees turned to jelly once more and her legs gave way so they both stumbled to the ground. He came above her with a broad smirk, continuing to handle her body like a skilled musician playing his instrument, very experienced and yet with a tenderness that was nearly unbearable since desire was already throbbing between her thighs, yearning to be fulfilled. She grabbed his head, fingers knotted in his black, tangled hair, and she begged him to bring it to an end.

Jack grinned; she didn't have to beg twice and he couldn't wait any longer. He wanted to lose himself in her, his pirate queen, his beautifully mad woman, and when he entered her at last it shook him to the roots of his soul. Slowly he began to move within her, bending his head to kiss her, to drink from her lips like a starving vampire, and she moved to meet him until he was no longer certain where he ended and she began. It had never been like this before. No other woman had ever evoke such feelings in him, no other woman had gotten under his skin so much that he could feel her in every pore, in his heart and even his soul; he had never let anyone touch his soul but now he just yielded. And then, he shuddered at the force of her climax, stunned that it was him who had aroused it and that it was his name she cried out at the end. He flashed her an awestruck glance and got caught by green eyes that fixed the course of his heart like a compass always pointing the right direction. Suddenly something was welling from deeper within him that he'd ever known, carrying him away like the rumble of the sea to a wild ocean and yet to a safe harbour as well, where being Captain Jack Sparrow wasn't important anymore. Here, he was only Jack, a Jack he had long forgotten but still looked familiar.

For a long time none of them spoke a word and the only sounds to be heard were the low roaring of the surf and the crackle of fire. Then in the fire some branches crumbled, sending orange-glowing showers of sparks in the night. Rowan lifted her head, frowning. It was a disturbing thought that someone out there on the sea could spot the fire and hurry to their 'rescue' since she wasn't in the mood of being rescued. Why at all? Here, on this island, was no Santiago, no Norrington, no trouble. Here was only Jack… Well, two days ago she would have detested being stranded on a lonely island with himof all people but now she didn't want to be with anyone else. Somehow it was also a startling thought. She snuggled closer to him yet at the same time she wanted to run away from him. There was always a danger in investing feelings and hearts were so easy to break.

"Shouldn't have lit he bloody fire, aye?" he mumbled, idly running his fingers through her hair.

"Hmm." She propped her head on one arm to look at him, feeling her heart ache at his sight. Jack was a different man today, here on that island; he had become soft and therefore vulnerable.

_Maybe the Pearl won't show up anyway, maybe they're even not searching for me like Gibbs has promised. Maybe they just sailed away to wherever, abandoning me once again_. There were these nagging thoughts in his head and he couldn't switch them off. Who has seen a mutiny before was mistrustful, and who has been marooned on an island even more.

"Gibbs won't let ye down, Jack." Rowan assured him as if reading his thoughts. _And I won't let ye down either._ Gently she brushed his lips with hers and sighed. "Dunno if I ever make friends with him but he's faithful and loyal to you. I just hope he needs some time to find us."

He gave her a wry smile and his hand let go of her hair to caress the line from her ear down to her collarbone, admiring the softness of her skin. "So ye like being on a lonely island withme?"

Rowan wanted to answer with a kiss but all of a sudden he stiffened and backed away a little as his fingertips had just sensed the only scar that marred her body; it was a faded, jagged line above her breast. Of course he'd noticed it before only he had never cared about it in the heat of lust and desire. Now it was different. Now he looked at it and shivered because he knew its origin. Barbossa.

"I wish I had been there to prevent him doing that." he murmured, feeling incredibly guilty

"Very unlikely since you were marooned on an island at that time." Rowan replied with a sarcastic undertone in her voice. She had hoped they were already through with that, alas she was wrong, and although she really didn't want to offend Jack it was hard for her not to lose patience with him. She only managed it because she had some respect for his feelings. "Hey, don't rack yer brain 'cause of me. If ye wanna do me a favour then please forgive Bill. Savvy?"

Bill. Bill Turner. Bootstrap Bill Turner. His friend. Maybe the only friend he ever had. But now it was too late to make the last words unsaid. They had been harsh words, unjust words; words born from a drunken and drugged brain. Drunken and drugged to bear and forget the world, the mutiny, treachery, abused trust, isolation, angst… _'Leave me alone, son of a lousy bitch! I don't need false friends, bloody traitors like you. Go away! Go to Barbossa and let him sodomize you.. But never, never ever dare to cross my path again.'_ That he had said yet he hadn't meant it, not that way. He was just completely pissed off with everything and most of all with life itself at that time…

"Jack, damned, talk to me."

It was only when Rowan shook him that he realized he had been completely lost in thoughts.

"I dunno what's going on in yer head." she complained. "Is it too much to ask for that you forgive him? Bill has already suffered enough, perhaps more than you and me together…"

_Now, if there was ever the question of forgiveness it was rather if Bill can forgive me- or Will. I've never told the whelp that his father wasn't lost in the oblivion of Davy Jones' locker_.

"Jack, it's like the whole burden of this bloody world is weighing on Bill's shoulders and only you can take it off him. He still feels guilty for the mutiny, for not being able to prevent it. For not warning you insistently enough of Barbossa although he knew damned well what that bastard was capable of, and he knew it because I've told him how he murdered my parents. I swear, he wanted to put it all right. He believed in the curse long before anyone else did so he send his piece of Aztec gold to his son in England as soon as they reached Tortuga. He wanted Barbossa to remain cursed forever and he wanted to rescue you; he even remembered the bearings of that island where you were marooned and he knew you could survive for a couple of days. And that you would save that one shot for Barbossa. But Barbossa's a suspicious bastard so he kept a sharp eye on Bill and then… well, you know the story. Just don't ask me how Santiago has learned of the danger or how he saved Bill 'cause I don't know. Santiago never talks about it as well as he avoids mentioning your name at all."

"He's right. Where's the rum?" Jack desperately needed some rum but when she handed him a bottle, he stared at her and decided that he needed something else, stronger than rum. He needed her. How he longed for her! He wanted her so much that his whole body ached, so he tumbled her over with his keen desire. This time he wasn't- he just couldn't be- gentle. Would he have been able to stop if she had protested? He really didn't know and there was no need to worry anyway. She shared his lust with the same intensity, clinging to him with all her limbs, her fingernails scratching his back.

In the aftermath of their wild raging they lay breathless in each other's arms, exhausted by fulfilled desire. Now, their kisses tasted sweeter again, and when they touched each other, idly caressing naked skin, it was only for the joy of it and not for lust.

"Will it ever stop?" Jack asked after a while. "I mean- we've just parted and I already miss you."

"Ye wanna do it again?" Rowan looked down on him and he followed her gaze laughing.

"Well, not right now. Just give me a few moments to recover."

"You're insatiable." There was no complaint in her voice only amusement, and then she bent over to kiss him.

"Aye. You know, I've fucked up too many things in my life but all the shit seems to disappear when I'm with you."

She felt flattered then and didn't know what to say. This was definitely a compliment and also a very special one, maybe even the best declaration of love she'd ever heard. They fell silent for a while, knowing that there's a time when words can only spoil the mood; what their hearts knew was too much to put in words anyway. Here, on that island, they had found the counterpart of their soul that had been missing without realisation- but it was another question if they could keep that feeling once they're in the real world again. That was something only time could tell.

"I'm still wondering…" It was Jack who broke the silence, his fingers tracing down the line of her scar. "… why did Barbossa stab you after he'd got what he wanted?"

"Oh, that story again." She sighed. "Well, ye know Barbossa, don't ye?"

"Aye, and that's why I'm asking. Don't get me wrong now, Rowan, but alive you could have been more 'valuable' to him."

"As his whore? Yeah, that's right. He always had a certain ill-favoured affection for me and he definitely wanted to be the one to deflower me but unfortunately for him he came years too late."

"Oh, so he wasn't the first one."

"Jack, I was almost nineteen at that time and I've always been kinda curious. Now remember my background. I was raised in a brothel before I met Santiago and then I spent most of my time on a pirate ship- d'ye really think that there was even the slightest chance to remain untouched? Of course I wanted to find out why men get so jittery when approaching a harbour, what it's all about. So Marris and me started toying with each other, and I liked it." Rowan was interrupted when Jack gasped, stunned for a moment, his mouth opened and closed.

"I never thought that a girl… that women would- ah, forget what I'm saying."

She laughed mildly. "Apparently there's still a lot ye need to know 'bout women, Captain Sparrow."

"Hey, for you it's only Jack, savvy?" he stressed

"Savvy."

"Good. Now continue. Am I right to assume that Barbossa wasn't very pleased to find out that he wasn't the first one?"

"Damned right! Actually he was really pissed."

"So that's why he stabbed you?"

She just shrugged indifferently. "Well, that's one reason. The other is that maybe I shouldn't have laughed at him when he was done, calling him a lousy lover."

"You're daft. Tell me you didn't." Jack stared at her stunned, knowing that she wasn't jesting. She had done it. She had really laughed at Barbossa while he'd still thought that he'd taught** her** a lesson. Nevertheless it was a daft thing to do and she'd paid for it. He shook his head, beads jingling. "You're daft and you are damned lucky that you survived."

"Aye." Should she tell him that she'd rather been dead than Barbossa's whore? No, there was no need to mention it now. It was over and forgotten a long time ago, and now it was time to change the topic. She let her hands run down his chest. "Now it's your turn."

"Are you gonna teach me what I still need to know 'bout women?"

Rowan fended off his attempt to get her on the back again and snorted. "Actually I rather thought that it's your turn to tell me a story…. But you really need to learn a lot about woman, for instance, you can't always be on top. And it's not that much fun to be breaded with sand."

"Well, if the sand's the problem we could take a bath." Jack suggested with an ambiguous grin.

"You don't give up, aye?" Rowan got on her feet and ran her fingers through her hair, knowing that he would stare at her. She could feel his eyes on her skin like an intense touch; it was a good feeling to be desired. Slowly she made her way to the pond. "C'mon Jack, let's have a bath. Maybe I show you something you've never even dreamt about. You know, sometimes women see men as playthings. D'ye wanna be my plaything, luv?"

The first Jack realized when he awoke was that he was alone. Startled he opened his eyes and closed them again the same moment, blinking against bright sunlight. Then a shadow fell above him and he saw a big fish. That was a weird dream. But only when he heard someone laughing about his stupid expression he realized that he wasn't dreaming at all. There was still a big fish in front of him, shimmering silvery in the sunlight, and that fish was speared on a sword, and of course it was Rowan who held the sword with the speared fish in front of him.

"Morning, my love. Have you come to feed your plaything?" he asked cheerfully and licked his lips. "Do you want me to eat a raw fish or can I have you for breakfast?"

"I thought we roast it in the fire but if you prefer it raw…"

"Come **here**, Rowan. I thought, I've told you what I prefer."

With a sigh she knelt down to kiss him and that kiss made all the thoughts undone she'd had when she woke up. She had felt tired and sore, not knowing if it had been wise to fall in love with a bloody scallywag like Jack Sparrow- but then again it was never really **wise **to fall in love at all. If she weren't on that island she probably would have run away. But now she only remembered how he'd melted in her hands last night when she had taught him some skills of love-making he'd never experienced before. After all, she had been to India.

"Any chance you'll repeat what you did last night?" he whispered in her ear, nuzzling her neck.

"Mayhap." she said although she was quite sure that she would. Somehow it was frightening how her body reacted to his, sending shivers down her spine when she was close to him, and yet she couldn't stop longing for him. She straightened again. "I'm hungry."

Jack followed her to the fireplace where he saw two more fishes. He made a surprised sound. "How did you catch them?"

"Well, I waded into the sea and scared them to death so I just had to pick them up. Besides, it's you who still owes **me** a story, remember? Every scar has it's story and you've got plenty of them."

He thought about it. What story should he tell her? She already knew the ones that made him a legend and he knew she didn't want to hear any boasting; she wanted to hear a true story because she had always told him the truth even if it was unpleasant…

"Can I at least have some rum before?"

"For breakfast?"

Jack threw his head back and gazed to the sky. "It's already noon. Besides, we're pirates- so it's never too early to have a sip of rum." He picked up a bottle and after a good gulp of rum he came up with a decision. "Panama."

Rowan had been laughing but now she looked at him rather confused.

"I'm gonna tell you a story I've never told anyone yet; I'm gonna tell you what really happened in Panama City when I sailed there with Morgan."

"Henry Morgan? You've sailed with the famous Captain Morgan? I didn't know that."

"Well, actually it's nothing to be proud of, at least I'm not proud of it. It wasn't like sacking a port without firing a single shot. There was a lot of shooting at that time. A lot of blood, pain and torture, of plundering and raping… I hadn't expected it to be like that when I signed. Dunno what I had expected. Ah, I was so young and naïve then. I was just a young fool with silly, heroic dreams in my head but there wasn't anything heroic in that raid. I had hoped to find glory but failed. But above all it wasn't what I had expected piracy to be. In fact Morgan wasn't a real pirate anyway since he had the letter of marque… You know the difference, don't you, Rowan?"

"Aye." she nodded, a scornful expression on her face. "Some people end up at the gallows while others get decorated although they all committed the same crime. It's a matter of politics."

"Only that I saw more crimes committed in the name of the crown than in my whole ruthless career as a pirate. To me, piracy was about freedom, boldness, playing tricks- something like pickpocketing, the good ol' hit and run thing but at sea and with ships. Of course there was also the booty to be considered… and that endless horizon…" Jack paused and looked at her. "You do know what I'm talking about, my love. Maybe you know it better than anyone else because you're a woman **and **a pirate."

"I know." she said thoughtfully, thinking about the wicked way of her life. She always had to be better than any man to get where she was now, the captain on her very own ship.

"Well, Panama was nothing of that at all. No horizon, only days and weeks at land, devastating the famous old town, the biggest trade centre for gold and silver in the world. It was like a war although England and Spain were officially at peace then. There were cruelties done. Morgan attacked all the surrounding countryside and even the islands off shore, torturing the residents because of gold. He didn't scruple to slay women and kids for the few pesos they had, wanting to gain as much he could. I've heard he was knighted in London, a few years later." Jack's voice sounded bitter and his eyes were fixed on a distant spot that only he could see. "I gained fifteen Pounds and plenty of experiences to cause nightmares, I also gained my first scar."

"I'm not sure whether I shall feel sorry for you. After all, you've participated in that cruel raid."

"No, no, no don't feel sorry for me, Rowan, you're right with that. I've told you I'm not proud of having been there. But I didn't get that wound in the battle, fighting the enemy. One of Morgan's officers shot me because I stepped out of line. He caught me when I tried to hide some kids and a beautiful young woman from the Buccaneers; I wanted to save her being raped and slain. Of course that was treason to Morgan's officer so her wanted to kill the bloody traitor. Lucky me that he wasn't the best shot. I shot him even before his bullet could hit my chest." Jack shrugged. "I didn't know it then but later I found out that Alf had arranged my recruitment with Morgan…"

"Alf? Bloody hell, why should he have done that?" Rowan gasped with surprise before then she came to the conclusion that a man who had failed to mention he was more than 200 years old even might be able of doing crueller things- for instance, sending young Jack into a war that wasn't his own one.

"Don't get him wrong, love. Morgan had an excellent reputation at that time, and I guess Alf thought it would be better for me to became a privateer and sail under the safety of a letter of marque than to become a pirate. Or maybe he wanted to erase the thought of piracy completely from my mind, I don't know. I never could ask him 'cause I haven't seen him for years… At that time, I was really fed up with him and never found my way back to his house since drinks and doxies of the dock area were much closer. I needed time to heal and to forget, and when that was done I met Samuel Davies again, the pirate captain on whose ship I have sailed for the very first time. Well, he wasn't a famous man with a great reputation but I learned a lot from him during the following years, so I stayed with him until he died. Sometimes I still miss him, he was a good man and a good pirate; he always kept to the code."

Rowan didn't say anything but just flung her arms around his neck and held him close. Now she did feel sorry for him. Life's never fair and although there were certain parallels in their lives- both of them had been street urchins when Santiago had found them and raised them- she had been the luckier one. Santiago hadn't sent her into a stupid war for gold just to test her. Instead, he'd given her all of his affection, he'd even build ships for her and taught her how to sail them. All the time he'd cared more for her than he ever had for Jack. She really didn't want to see Santiago ever again but she knew as well that it was unavoidable since she needed his help to stop Ratbone and Norrington from whatever they were up to. Hopefully she didn't have to find out too soon. She'd rather stay on that island with Jack a little longer although the thought of having fallen in love with him still scared her. For a second she felt thrown back in time and space to another one she'd loved once but fortunately that memory faded as quickly as it had appeared when Jack kissed her. And again she yielded to him, seeking confirmation and comfort in his embrace. There are scars one cannot see, nevertheless they're there, aching sometimes, and their story is the hardest to tell.


	11. 10 An invitation for dinner

**10. An invitation for dinner**

"All hands on deck! Hoist the sails!"

Jack woke up with a start, not knowing where he was for a moment. Then he remembered that he was on a lonely island, so these commands seemed a little senseless to him- but who dared to shout orders at Captain Jack Sparrow anyway? He lifted his head. The sun was shining, a light breeze rustled in the leafs of the trees above him, and Rowan stirred in her sleep, cuddling closer to him. Her hair spread around her face like a veil of red wine, flowing down her shoulders to her round and firm breasts; breasts that were made to fit into his hands perfectly. He nuzzled her neck and thought that it was a wonderful morning.

"Scabby dogs! All hands on deck!"

Damned, it hadn't been a dream- or everything else had been a dream and now he was cast back to reality, realizing that they weren't alone on this island. Someone was watching them. His hand reached out for a weapon, any weapon. Then his fingers touched the hilt of his sword and he strengthened his grip around it while he jumped to his feet.

"What's going on?" Rowan grumbled sleepily.

"Land ahoy!" someone shouted, although _shouted_ wasn't exactly the right word as it was more a screeching that came from the branches of the trees above them. Jack gazed up and saw blue and yellow feathers shimmering in the sunlight when Cotton's parrot fluttered cheerfully from tree to tree. Then he looked to the sea. His heart leapt at the sight of black sails offshore- the Black Pearl was there. But as much as his heart leapt at the sight of her he wasn't so sure if he really wanted to be rescued from the island since there wasn't any need for a rescue. After all, this morning had started off promisingly…

"Land ahoy!"

Jack wished he could roast the bloody parrot for breakfast and threw a stone at him, of course it missed. Parrot flapped with his wings, screeching curses. But even if he had hit that blue-yellow feathered creature there was no denying that a longboat was already approaching the shore for his rescue. He saw Gibbs, Cotton and four other men in it, and dressed quickly since it would have been rather unsuitable to meet them stark naked. Then he walked to the beach.

Rowan watched him amused. It was incredibly how he changed with every step he took, becoming more and more the infamous Captain Sparrow, the master of big gestures, the poser and boaster. To her he had revealed his real face, the part of himself he kept well hidden behind the legends, but he left that part behind now.

"Jack!" Gibbs shouted, relieved to see his captain alive. He would have never have spoken it out loud, but he hadn't liked Jack's plan at all. It was daft to hide amongst foes who would love to see him at the gallows only to save a woman, a red haired witch. Also he hadn't liked the thought of Jack being on a godforsaken island once again since he already had to bear it too often. Yet he had been given an order and he had obeyed. "I'm glad you're alive."

"Well, ye haven't expected anything else, have ye? After all, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Never doubted that, Jack. I'm sure you also managed to save the wi… er, **woman, **I wanted to say."

"Aye, of course Captain Sparrow has managed to save the red-haired witch, Mr. Gibbs." Rowan said cheerfully when she finally joined them. Ignoring Gibbs's confused look she climbed into the longboat and avoided Jack's questioning glance as much as being close to him. "Let's go. I just can't wait to get aboard the famous Black Pearl."

"What are ye waiting for, ye scabby dogs? Weigh the bloody anchors and hoist the sails! We're heading for Tortuga!" Jack was well aware that the whole crew was watching him- and Rowan- with a certain curiosity. So he barked commands to get them working instead of thinking; but anyway, it was too obvious even if Rowan tried to keep her distance and to stay in the background.

He watched his men scurry to set the sails before he addressed Mr. Gibbs. "Show Captain Scarlett the way to my cabin and then I need you at the helm, savvy?"

"Aye, captain!"

_It is frightful bad luck having one woman aboard but two are even worse_, Gibbs thought when he lead Scarlett to Jack's cabin and passed Anamaria, who didn't look very pleased with the situation at all; there was trouble in the air. The last thing he needed now were two shrewish women quarrelling over the captain's affection although the Captain himself might have liked that.

"You wait here." he said, opening the cabin door for Rowan. The way he closed it after she had entered the room sounded as if he would have rather locked her in the brig, but she had already known that he wouldn't welcome her with open arms, so be it. She wasn't here to make friends with Gibbs.

Her eyes roamed through the room and she was a bit surprised that the cabin wasn't what she had expected it to be, at least it was less messy. And it was big, that was for sure. As big as a captain's cabin should be if he wanted to represent himself. There were windows on three sides, giving view of the sea from nearly every angle, and the light that flowed in brightened up the dark furniture that was decorated with beautiful carvings. Cupboards or shelves were hidden behind carved wood to give away nothing personal except for some very few, selected pieces of loot- a silvern chandelier here, there a precious mirror, and a large oriental-styled carpet on the floor. Persia, 11th century, she guessed. But dominating the room was a big, round table of the same dark wood as everything else was, and on it was only a flat bowl with green apples. The bed, broad and luxurious covered with black silken sheets and pillows, was in a corner of the room one couldn't see when walking in the cabin. Nevertheless it looked quite comfortable and inviting…

"D'ye like it, Rowan?"

She hadn't noticed that Jack had entered the cabin, therefore she winced when she his arms came around her waist and started to shiver, feeling vulnerable, an easy prey. He stood behind her, his hands unbuttoning her shirt to cup her breasts, squeezing them gently.

"You're a lecherous, insatiable pirate." she moaned.

"Aye. Welcome aboard the Black Pearl, luv." Finally she was where he had always wanted her to be from the very first moment he had met her, but now it wasn't only for fun. If he had ever missed something in his life, even aboard of his beloved Pearl, it was her, and he felt incredibly happy being with his two true loves now. He turned her around to kiss her thoroughly. Passion took over control and they stumbled, bumping against the table.

"Shouldn't we try it in bed for a change." Rowan yelped but at the same moment she begged him not to stop… at least it wasn't sandy here…

They didn't hear the knocking at the door- or maybe there just was none- nevertheless Gibbs came rushing in, followed by Anamaria.

"Captain! There's a problem- oh!" Gibbs noticed at once that it wasn't an opportune moment to disturb them and he would have discreetly closed the door if the matter hadn't been less serious. But spotting the sails of three ships approaching the Pearl from different directions was something he considered rather serious. Also he hadn't expected to see Rowan Scarlett laying half naked on this captain's table. A skinny lass she was, not so soft and curvaceous as he preferred a woman to be.

"Take yer bloody eyes off **my woman**, mate." Jack snapped while Rowan sat up with a start, hastily knotting the ends of her shirt beneath her bare breasts. "Ye can tell me what ye have to say without staring at her."

Rowan rolled her eyes and it was only then, that she caught sight of Anamaria. For an instant she wished Anamaria would just storm in and slap Jack like she usually did, but instead the woman gazed at her with icy-cold eyes, making her remember the true meaning of hatred. _Oh shit, I better do not turn my back on her and sleep with a pistol under my pillow as long as I'm here_, she thought, never being more aware that she really wasn't welcome aboard the Pearl. Jack certainly hadn't chosen the best way to make her popular with the crew. And that daft fool didn't even notice. Too full of himself he'd just boasted as if she was his favourite possession.

"Beg your pardon, Captain, never wanted to seem rude, but…" He told Jack about the three ships the watch in the crow's nest had reported.

"What colours do they fly?"

"British- at least two of them. The third one was still too far away."

"Well, all hands clear for action, I'd say. Load the cannons, mate!" Jack seemed to be eager to prove the Pearl's qualities, nevertheless he looked insistently to Rowan after Gibbs and Anamaria had left the cabin, his hands performing a weird dance of begging, urging and persuading all at the same time. "Do me a favour, aye? Please don't do anything stupid. I wanna know ye're safe."

"Fine. Then I need weapons."

He sighed, obviously that wasn't the answer he had expected. He would have liked to keep her out of trouble, but he saw in her storm-clouded eyes that he better not try. She put her arms on her hips and gazed at him with same insistent look he'd given her.

"Oh no. It'll never work **that **way between us, luv. Ye're not gonna pamper me. Gimme a sword 'n a pair of pistols and then **I** know I'm safe. That's the way **I am**, so either ye accept it or ye better forget me soon."

Jack didn't answer but shrugged and opened the door of a cupboard hidden behind the richly carved walls, revealing something like his personal arsenal. There were some pistols, yet mainly swords, cutlasses, daggers- blades of an excellent quality.

"Gosh!" Rowan was impressed. She took out a sword, weighing it in her hand- it was perfectly balanced. "Where did you get all these from?"

"Well, I guess the whelp wanted to know **I **was safe. Just take what you like."

Jack watched fascinated how her eyes began to sparkle as if she was a child who had been given a nice toy for Christmas- only that she wasn't into dolls but blades. And she wasn't modest either. She could have just chosen one sword and a pair of pistols yet obviously she felt much better after she had also stuffed a dagger in her boots and a bit more here and there, smiling her fallen angel's smile when she finally looked at him.

"Let's go 'n look for trouble."

Rowan wished she hadn't said that since they didn't have to **look** for trouble, they really **were** in trouble. One ship was approaching them diagonally on the larboard quarter; it was a manoeuvrable brig called Challenger. She had about fourteen cannons and two flexible ones, falcons, at the bows. These small cannons were firing occasionally but they didn't do more harm than causing a stir in the water behind the stern, and they were only used to push the Pearl further towards the second ship which lay in wait to block their way. That one was a bigger vessel, a galleon. That one was the Dauntless, the flagship of the Royal Navy, and it was Commodore Norrington who was in command of its almost a hundred cannons.

"Bloody hell, how did that bastard escape the little firework we made of the Phantom?" Rowan cursed, putting down the telescope.

"Guess he couldn't wait to bring that compass to bloody Ratbone and if that little creep really is a mighty magician like you said then he was pretty pissed being cheated, I'd say." Jack replied with a grim smile before he gave orders to brace back.

Any other man- or captain- she knew would have done exactly the opposite, would have ordered to brace the sails, to catch as much wind as possible, trying to break out and escape to the starboard side, but not Jack. Some might call him daft yet he wasn't, no, not at all. She understood his plan immediately and maybe even better than the crew; they grumbled in confusion but then they obeyed. The yards were turned and the wind was taken off the sails, the black canvas slapped languidly against the masts now like broken wings. The Pearl lost speed and nearly came to a stop.

That was something the attackers hadn't expected at all. Probably they had thought the pirates would be so stupid to heave on, yet **that** would have been a really stupid thing to do. It was all a matter of the right angle. By heaving on the Black Pearl would have been sandwiched between the cannons of both the Challenger and the Dauntless; she would have been an easy prey for them. Also there was no way at all in escaping to the starboard side since the area here was famous for shallows and dangerous reefs, and the Pearl had too much draft. But the unexpected slowdown shuffled the cards anew, because now the Challenger passed by and might have been in a good position to shoot a broadside on the Pearl- if the Royal Navy would have been prepared for it. Luckily they weren't, although the few cannons of the Challenger weren't really a challenge to the powers of the Pearl. On Jack's command her cannons thundered and after that, the brig was far less manoeuvrable than before. Wood splintered with a loud crash when the main mast broke, tearing down most of the rigging. Chaos spread aboard the Challenger. Only a few men kept calm to reload the cannons, but their shots were aimed poorly so there wasn't much damage done to the Pearl. Nevertheless, no cheering came up amongst the pirates since the Dauntless was still laying in wait for them, giving some warning shots that fortunately just sprayed up the water. So their situation hadn't improved much and there was still the third ship to be considered, a speck on the horizon when spotted first; now it had come closer and everybody could see that it flew British colours as well. Yet it wasn't a Royal Navy's vessel.

The three-master was as dark as the Black Pearl but of a slighter shape and definitely not looking like a warship. One might assume that its sails were black, but Rowan knew that they were actually the colour of dried blood, a red so dark it almost seemed black. Her face brightened up at the sight because it was her Jewel Star. She elbowed Jack to get his attention and pointed with her head towards the approaching ship.

"What d'ye say? I'm gonna annoy bloody Norrington a bit with that cute li'le cannons ye 've at the bow until the Jewel's close enough to give them a fiery welcome, while ye prepare for a quick change of direction to open crossfire at the opportune moment?"

Jack knew a good plan when he was told and that one was perhaps as good as any he himself might have made up. His lips brushed hers. "I'd say take care, luv."

Smirking she hurried to the bow and looked around for someone to help her with the falcon there. As she had already expected none was volunteering. Then she heard the fluttering of wings and Parrot sat down on the barrel of the cannon, screeching: "Wind in yer sails! Wind in yer sails! All hands on deck! Scabby dogs!"

As a result Mr. Cotton appeared at her side, proving with a wide grin that at least he was willing to help her.

"Ah, now I'm glad that Jack didn't roast Parrot for breakfast." Also she was glad that Cotton couldn't reply to that since he apparently didn't know how to deal with her humour. He just looked at her in bewilderment while Rowan aligned the cannon.

The current had driven the Pearl closer to the Dauntless meanwhile so there was a realistic chance to score a hit. Alas, there was also the chance to get hit although the Pearl still provided a small target, approaching the Royal Navy's flagship at that angle.

Rowan aimed at the mizzen mast and the shot went off. She missed her aim a little yet the result was much the same. She had wanted the main-yard to come down and crash on bloody Norrington's head but it only brushed him slightly. Nevertheless he lost his hat, wig, and a good deal of dignity. Even from that distance she could see his face turn purple with anger and she almost felt his black eyes staring at her; it was scary. Yet, it had been her intention to gain his attention and to prove the Pearl's crew that she wasn't a just bed-time sweetie for Captain Jack Sparrow. She had succeeded in both. Now, none aboard the Dauntless paid attention to the approaching Jewel that had already changed colours; she flew the Jolly Roger now and her gun ports were open to give the Dauntless an unexpected broadside. At the same time the pirates braced the sails again, manoeuvring the Pearl to set the Dauntless under bombardment from all sides.

When Commodore Norrington finally noticed that he'd been cheated he ordered the immediate destruction of the Jewel- only that the Jewel had long passed the Dauntless. Chaos spread; soldiers scurried hither and thither, none of them really knowing what to do first or next, and maybe even Norrington himself didn't know what he wanted in his blind rage. Well, he certainly wanted all pirates dead and both of their ships sent to Davy Jones' locker but it rather looked as if both ships would manage to escape justice. The Jewel had just changed tack by wearing, ready to give the Dauntless another broadside, while the Pearl tried to sneak past the bow and towards the open sea. Too soon both ships were out of reach of the Royal Navy's cannons, leaving Norrington behind cursing as bluntly as the pirates he hated. He could have sworn that they were all laughing at him.

Actually the pirates really laughed, they laughed because they have kept their lives and their freedom. Then Jack manoeuvred the Pearl alongside the Jewel to thank Marris who was in command of her at the moment.

Rowan didn't consider the consequences of her actions; she saw her ship, her crew, the friends she had missed, so she took a rope and crossed the distance swinging through the air. She landed next to Marris, flinging her arms around his neck to hug him dearly. She didn't see Jack's face turn pale while he watched her with the bitter knowledge that she had just left him.

"Damned, ye really know how to startle us, Rowan. Don't ye ever dare doing something that stupid again." That was how Marris welcomed her home, yet it was a warm-hearted welcome and her whole crew seemed to be happy that she was back aboard the Jewel Star.

"Well, it was never my intention to be away from you scallywags for so long. Actually I only wanted to explore a wreck and return with the loot, but that's a long story. Now, tell me, how did you find me?"

Marris started talking about a horse that returned to its stable without its rider and how shocked Santiago had been, guessing that something must have happened to her. He had then moved heaven and earth to find her- and maybe even hell, how Marris cheekily assumed…

"I bet he'd swung a pendulum above a nautical chart to find out yer whereabouts- you know how weird he can be sometimes- because suddenly he told me to look for ye at the Seal Cays, so here I am…"

Marris kept on talking but Rowan didn't really listen to him anymore. Her gaze roamed across the sea to the Black Pearl, to Jack Sparrow, and suddenly she realized what she'd just done. She had left him without an explanation, without a word, without a good-bye kiss. Yet it had never been her intention to leave him that way, not after all that had transpired between them on the island. Suddenly her heart began to ache and she missed him immensely.

"Jack." she whispered and something long forgotten stirred deep within her. Then she heard Marris saying something about returning to Tortuga as fast as possible and she could just stop him from giving orders to brace the sails. "No!" she yelled, since the distance to the Pearl had already increased. "Reef the sails! Reef the main sails!"

Marris frowned. "But Santiago told me to…"

"I don't give a shit anymore on what **Santiago** wants. We're not gonna leave the Pearl behind, savvy?"

He was a bit bewildered first but then he noticed the way the wind was blowing and smiled cheerfully. "Ah, Jack. I really should've thought 'bout that. After all, ye've been all alone on a lonely island with him… tell me about it."

"You're much too nosey." She sighed, looking to the Pearl again.

"D'ye want me to take ye back to dear Jack?"

The idea was tempting nevertheless Rowan hesitated, feeling torn. **Yes**, she would have liked to say, but instead she shook her head. There were still Anamaria's icy cold looks and Mr. Gibbs' unfriendly manners to be considered and therefore she couldn't return to the Pearl, pretending everything was all right; it just wasn't. There, she would never know if someone might stab her in the back so she would have to sleep with a pistol under her pillow and be alert all the time. Not a very romantic thought.

"D'ye think ye can send a message to the Black Pearl?" she suddenly asked Marris.

"Saying what?" he smirked conspiratorial, letting her know that he was always ready for mischief.

"An invitation for dinner perhaps?"

If possible, he grinned even broader. "A romantic candlelight dinner? Your wish is my command, Captain."

"Is it really a good idea?" All at once Rowan was unsure, somehow she didn't like the words _romantic candlelight dinner_. What would the crew think? They had come to save her from a danger she'd never been in, instead she had enjoyed the few days on that island with Jack, and if she invites him for dinner now, they all would know. It had taken her so long to gain everybody's respect, she couldn't afford to lose it just for one more night with Jack.

"Ye worry too much. The crew's happy when ye're happy, and it's really time for ye to be happy again." Marris informed her unceremoniously, reading her thoughts like an open book. He grabbed her arm and dragged her down the companions way to her cabin. "Once again, tell me what happened."

Rowan sat down on the table and started with the day she had discovered the wreck of the Gavina, the day she had found out about Escobar's death as well as Santiago's unusually long life. Then she got up again, rearranging some pillows on her bed while she continued telling her story, how she had fallen into Norrington's hands, what the Commodore wanted from Jack, and how they had blasted the Phantom. The whole time she scurried through her cabin doing useless things before she vanished behind a paravent. Marris saw her clothes drop to the floor and heard the splashing of water.

"… and then we reached that island." Her head appeared from behind the paravent, giving him her sweetest smile. "Please, could you be so kind and bring me more water? I really **have** to wash my hair."

"It's not fair to stop when it's getting interesting." he mumbled and hurried to do what she'd asked because he didn't want to miss that part. And although she only told him a few minor details after she finally stepped from behind the paravent to have a glass of wine, her eyes couldn't hide that she had a really good time on that island. He grinned knowingly. "So, it's serious."

"No." Rowan lied, rummaging about in a chest with clothes. But she wasn't a very good liar; at least she couldn't conceal the truth from Marris.

"Ye can't fool me, dear, I know ye better than anyone else. No matter what ye say, yer eyes can't keep a secret."

"Well, even if I love him it still doesn't make any sense. I mean, look at me! I've just washed my hair- if we had a tub aboard I would have even taken a bath- and now I don't know what to wear. I'm acting ridiculous. I'm acting like a foolish girl facing her first date. Why? For Jack, I'm only one of many. He'll forget me soon enough 'cause there's no future for this love anyway. He won't give up his Pearl, I won't yield the Jewel, that's it. Damned, I'm a pirate, I won't change my ways. And I'm not vain, but I really don't have anything to wear for tonight."

Marris stared at her amused and couldn't help but bust out into laugher. "Gosh! Ye're mad and ye're in love- what a combination! Ye're absolutely mad 'bout Jack and ye're surely not only one of many for him 'cause he loves ye too; I know it. I dunno if Santiago will like that but I think that's great since it's really time for you to relearn love."

"Ye're sure?" Her voice sounded uncertain and she looked very vulnerable as she stood there naked beside to a chest with clothes, still not having anything to wear. Then she sighed and shrugged, forcing away unpleasant memories from long ago. _After all, Jack wasn't like Tyagraja… Deep in his heart Jack was honest, without any evil, and although he was too full of himself sometimes, he has definitely never been when we made love._ "Well, if ye're so sure 'bout that ye better help me since I really dunno what to wear."

"I wonder if that matters 'cause he's gonna undress ye anyway." Marris chuckled before he got serious again. "By the way what d'ye want Rashid to serve?""

"It doesn't matter since I'm gonna be the dinner." she grinned.

-

He knew everyone was staring stared at him though they tried to do it as unobtrusive as possible. After he'd passed them by to go down the companions way they would start jesting and he couldn't even blame them. There had been so many ambiguous jokes aboard his own ship ever since he got her message, so it wouldn't be much different here; yet there was a difference. **Her** first mate welcomed him as a friend instead of an intruder, not like **his **first mate had welcomed her.

"Captain Scarlett is already awaiting you, Captain Sparrow." Marris said open-minded and with a knowing smile.

Jack took his time to eye the pirate up and down. If he had believed in fairy-tales he would have thought him to be an elf. Of course Marris had no pointed ears but his face was much to pretty for a man and his hair was too pale, it almost had the colour of moonlight. But then again he would have make a rather unusual elf with his backcombed mass of hair, several silvern earrings and jingling rings on his arms; also he had a very unelvish tattoo of a nude Asian girl on his left upper arm.

"Are ye ready?" Marris asked slightly amused, reminding Jack that he was in fact staring at him. "Before ye can ask- the tattoo's from Shanghai, and I'm from a strange country far in the north called Finland, and my real name's unpronounceable for anyone outside Finland so everybody simply calls me Marris, savvy?" They had reached the door to Rowan's cabin by now and Marris opened it with an inviting gesture. "Have fun."

Jack entered the cabin and was stunned. Well, he had been invited for dinner so he shouldn't be surprised that the table was set for two, and because it was already dark outside there were of course candles burning. And Rowan, she just looked incredible tonight. She wore a green sari that matched her emerald eyes and her red-wine hair hung loose to the middle of her back.

So they're gonna have a candlelight dinner. Now that was something he never had before since that was never needed for a quick lay, also it would have been very unsuitable for a pirate. But now he liked the idea because Rowan was much more to him than just a good lay and although the though of a close relationship was somehow scary, it was no longer unthinkable.

8


	12. 11 the Slayer of Granada

This one's for Ellenar- I know you're fixated with Alf

11. The Slayer of Granada

They say Tortuga never sleeps and it's true. It's quieter at daytime though, when the drunks sleep in the gutter and the mood was far less aggressive, no one was fighting, no one fired his pistol. But the dock area looked worse in the bright sunlight and the smell, well, the smell was just incredibly. It smelled of sweat, human excrements and dead fish rotting in the damp heat. Then you see a drunkard lying in his own vomit and you're not surprised at anything, anymore. And the bars and taverns were open around the clock, seven days the week, to produce even more drunks; it was a never-ending circulation. Whenever someone was boozed-up enough and fell off the chair someone else awoke from delirium and filled that place. Also there were so many doxies in Tortuga that no man's desire would ever be unfulfilled; one could assume they worked in shifts as well. Yet there are still men who consider every woman fair game…

One of them, a particularly ugly example of mankind, bumped into Rowan Scarlett when she left her ship, eager to get a drink before she met Santiago, and therefore she wasn't in the best mood.

"'ello darlin'! Fancy a screw?"

Definitely not!

"Don't ye dare to paw me woman!" Jack snorted, eyes narrowed dangerously while his hand reached for his pistol. But Rowan reacted faster than he could interfere, unceremoniously ramming her knee in the bastard's balls. He howled, writhing with pain in the filthy street.

"Now that'll teach ye a lesson." Jack pretentiously brandished his pistol in front of the bloke's nose, behaving as if he'd been the one who'd sent him to the ground.

"Well, thanks for yer support, luv." Rowan said with cool cynicism and very little patience, then she sighed. "Damned, I **really **need a drink now."

"Ah, and I'm the one who'll buy ye a drink. My woman should never be in need of anything." he boasted in his typical Captain-Jack-Sparrow-manner, wrapped a possessive arm around her shoulders and led her towards the Faithful Bride.

**_Men!_** she thought, feeling rather tempted to knock his head with the big Spanish book he'd given her, the one that revealed Santiago's past. Oh, she really hated it when he was so boastful, treating her like his favourite possession; in fact, he seemed to **enjoy** showing-off with her.

He ignored all the women who greeted him with a certain familiarity- mostly whores, Rowan could that tell by the way they dressed- and he himself was a bit surprised how many there were. It would have also surprised him how quickly gossip spread and that rumours had already rushed ahead them when they finally entered the Faithful Bride.

_Allegedly Captain Jack Sparrow has a new favourite_, the whores whispered among themselves, jealously guessing who that might be and how she would look like. It was only when Rowan walked in at Jack's side that they fell silent and stared at her.

Apparently she wasn't at all what they had expected her to be, but she couldn't have cared less. She just wanted to get to the bar, have a good gulp of rum, and then leave again. But sometimes things never happen the way you want them to. Instead of passing through the room with the dignity of a pirate captain equal to the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, Rowan stumbled and shook hands with the floor. The whores shrieked with joy and started gibbering once more.

"What a clumsy chick… bah- and she wears man's clothes! No **real** woman would do that… she's got no style at all. … and she's got small tits… I really wonder what Jack sees in her… maybe she's hexed poor Jack… just look at her hair…"

Rowan shook off Jack's helping hand impatiently; she got on her feet and her storm-clouded eyes roamed through the tavern. She didn't mind some whores' opinion nor making a fool of herself sometimes, but that was too much. Finally her gaze fell on the one who was responsible for it, the one who had tripped her.

"Are ye lookin' for trouble, Anamaria?" she asked coldly.

"No. NO. **NO**!" Jack sensed trouble, perhaps even a fight, therefore he grabbed Rowan's arm and dragged her to the bar, barking at the barkeeper to bring a bottle of rum. Then he did something incredible stupid. Maybe he wanted to make sure that Captain Jack Sparrow's choice was not to be doubted, maybe he only wanted to prove her his affection- nevertheless, kissing her here and now was definitely not his wisest decision. She knew it since she really **felt** Anamaria looking daggers at her and besides, she wasn't in the mood. So she tried to struggle away from him but failed; he held her clasped in a vice-like grip. After all, he was Captain Jack Sparrow so he couldn't be rejected, if he wanted a kiss he would get one. Defiantly she bit his lower lip until she tasted blood on her tongue but even that didn't stop him. If possible, it only encouraged him to ravage her mouth with wild determination and an almost brutal passion, especially when her body finally betrayed her. She couldn't help but to reply that kiss with the same ferocity as if they wanted to rape each other. Yet they managed to keep their composure somehow, because the cheering of some pirates reminded them that they weren't in privacy- though none in Tortuga would have minded a public fuck; that was on every day's agenda anyway. They broke their kiss but not their embrace, staring at each other breathless.

"Sorry." Jack whispered nearly inaudibly in her ear, brushing a wisp of hair off her face.

"Ah, what else to expect from a pirate but mad pirate-love." Rowan took the bottle from the bar to have a good swig of rum and then she winced since the liquor burned like fire on her swollen lips. With a little demonic smile she passed the bottle to Jack. "Have a drink, luv."

A golden grin flashed up on his face as he grabbed the bottle with one hand and her backside with the other, pressing her hips to his erection; she shuddered with lust. Now, that's exactly how he liked women, wantonly, offering him rum. But when he drank he winced even more than Rowan had done and clenched his teeth.

"Guess I've really deserved that, aye?" he gasped.

She didn't answer because there was no reasonable answer. Instead she tried to focus her slightly oversexed mind on the things she'd come for in the first place, such as confronting Santiago with his past. With a heavy heart she let go of Jack and picked up the precious Spanish book again, suddenly feeling rather nervous.

"Best I get it over and done with." she sighed and had another mouthful of rum, ignoring her burning lips; at least it calmed her stomach.

"**We** get it over and done." Jack stressed and searched for his hat that had gone off on its own during their little struggle. Finally restored in all his mischievous glory he demonstratively offered Rowan his arm, quite pleased with himself.

_Damned beloved fool,_ she thought and rolled her eyes. Now, that would really infuriate Anamaria- therefore she gratefully accepted his offer, passing the jealous bitch with her head held high. In fact, someone who **tripped** her wasn't worth a second thought let alone being scared of. She had to face more serious problems and one of them was a once trusted Spaniard who'd apparently failed to mention that he was more than two-hundred-and-many-more years old and therefore probably not human. A Spaniard she wanted to confront with the truth she had found out about him, hoping for a reasonable explanation but expecting… the unexpected. Somehow she was glad that Jack accompanied her, although that would perhaps raise even more problems since Santiago didn't seem to be too fond of Jack.

Lost in thoughts she headed to the old town of Cayona, to a maze of cobble-stoned alleys full of corners. Here, away from the docks area, the town actually had a certain charm since most houses were decorated with flowers. But Rowan didn't notice these things now, neither the cool shade in the narrow alleys nor the sweet scent of exotic blossoms. Her heart was beating a bit faster when she finally reached Santiago's house, the gates were wide open revealing the courtyard with its marble fountain. She took a deep breath and entered.

"Rowan, my dear girl!" Somehow Santiago managed to sound surprised to see, although she knew damned well that he had already expected her. He made an inviting gesture. "Please, join us for lunch." Then he saw Jack and the smile left his face. "What are you doing here? Haven't I told you to leave my house? You're not welcome here, ever again."

Will and Elisabeth, who were just having lunch with Santiago, felt rather uncomfortable. Though they would have liked to welcome Jack they didn't dare since Santiago had been such a nice and generous host to them so far; they simply didn't want to annoy him. Rowan had no such intention. Actually she was in the right mood for trouble. Defiantly she looked at Santiago.

"First, I'm not your dear girl, and second," She grabbed Jack's arm, helping him to decide whether to stay or leave. "you stay here."

Santiago raised a brow; apparently he'd already figured her out. "Ah- now, that's interesting. So you've enjoyed being stranded on an island with that rascal. Let me guess how you spent your time there."

"It's not the way you think, Alf, honestly. I can explain it." Jack gave the impression of a little boy caught doing something forbidden; he stared at his boots and nibbled his lips though it hurt.

"I'm really dying for that explanation."

"Oh no, darling, our conscience is clear." Rowan interrupted, addressing Jack who was a bit stunned- _did she really just called him **darling**? Well, there might be no better way to annoy Alf completely._ Anyway, Elisabeth had heard it too. Her gaze wandered to and fro between the two of them, while the expression on her face seemed to say: Ha! I knew it! But her romantic thoughts didn't stand up Rowan's direct way to face facts. "We had sex on the beach- so what? Well, some of those present may think that shocking and immoral but I really doubt that some of those present haven't done even more immoral things in their lives. What do you think is worse, Santiago? Having sex on the beach or once being called the Slayer of Granada?"

With these words she tossed the book on the table, opening it where the bookmark was so that Santiago had to face his own picture. Somehow it was spooky seeing him both alive and portrayed true to life as well, always remembering the bloody date. 1492.

"Now, if you're so keen on explanations- can you explain that to me?"

The Spaniard didn't answer. Maybe it was for the first time ever that Rowan saw him really, really shocked. He went deathly pale and his eyes stared at her horrified.

"Where did you get that from?" he whispered nearly inaudible.

"Does it matter? Would it change the bloody fucking fact that you've deceived me ever since I met you? Or have you really simply failed to mention that you're more than two-hundred years old and therefore probably not human?" Rowan asked him very outraged, impatiently running her fingers through her hair. "Damned, you better tell me right now whoyou are and **what** you are!"

Santiago buried his face in his hands, looking really miserable, tired and old. "I never wanted you to find it out that way. You're absolutely right my dear, I should have told you. But how, and when? When **is** the opportune moment to confess the horrible truth, that I **am **in fact 246 years old but haven't aged the last two-hundred years?"

Elisabeth drew a sharp breath, shocked but also somehow fascinated, while Will moved closer to his wife, now seeing their nice and generous host with completely different eyes. Who was the man his hospitality they had enjoyed these past days? What was he?

"Do you see what I mean, Rowan? To be honest, I never wanted to see that look on your face, suspicious, sceptical whether to trust me or not, even detesting. I never wanted you to loathe me."

"Then better tell me the damned truth." She confirmed her matter of concern by thumping on the table with her fist. "Have I been raised by a monster?"

"Well, mayhap I've been a monster once, only I didn't know it then. Still, I'm human- cut me and I'll bleed. Yet I cannot die. I've done dreadful things once and therefore I was punished, therefore I was cursed."

"Cursed? As cursed as Barbossa and his crew of miscreants?" Jack wondered curiously. "But you're not… _unfeeling_… like they were. Yet you're immortal, like you said, and I saw you eating and drinking; I even know how much you enjoy good food." His thoughts began to roam a little bit too far. "How about the other things? I mean, taking for granted that ye're no eunuch…"

The Turners coughed slightly embarrassed, Rowan just rolled her eyes, and Santiago shot him a scornful gaze.

"Ah, shut up Sparrow. Has none ever taught you at least a little decency?"

"As decent as Morgan?" Rowan snapped with a voice that could freeze the Caribbean. Santiago turned to face her and for a moment everyone present held his breath, not knowing what would transpire next. Jack slightly touched her arm, warning her wordless not to go too far and although he was quite sure that Alf would never harm Rowan, it was always better to be safe than sorry. But it was the Spaniard who looked away first.

"So he told you about Panama, very clever. Appealing to your sympathy so that you would ally yourselves against me, and apparently he'd succeeded." Santiago sighed, seeming more sad than annoyed. Then he looked at her again. "Well, he might have won your heart with his doubtful charm but I'm quite sure that he hasn't told you about his involvement in…"

"**That **was only due to my own folly." Rowan cut him short, not wanting to hear the same old stories again and again. Her eyes narrowed. "Jack **has **told me. How odd, he's actually told me more about him by now than you've ever done."

"Has he also told you how he treated Bill when we finally found him with the rum runners, drugged and drunk? He called him a mutineer and…"

"Wait!" Will cried out, looking desperately at Jack. "Does that mean you have seen my father alive **after** Barbossa had allegedly sent him to Davy Jones' locker? You **knew **all the time that my father's** not** dead and **you've never told me**?"

It seldom happened that the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow didn't know what to say. His hands performed an useless dance in the air, searching for the right words he would never find. After all was said and done he only wished for the ground to open and swallow him.

"Hush, whelp. Jack didn't wanna raise yer hopes for nothing since he knew not if yer father's still alive; after all, ten years is a very long time." Rowan threw in for Jack's defence, and though it was a white lie it sounded so credible that even Jack himself believed it.

"Aye, that's it." A self-satisfied smile flashed across his face. "I didn't wanna raise wrong hopes and..."

Before Jack could start spinning a yarn, Rowan focussed everybody's thoughts on the main topic again and that wasn't Bill Turner's life but Santiago's. She gazed sharply at the Spaniard. "Nice attempt to distract! Instead of finally telling me the truth, all ye do is try to slag off Jack. Damned, ye make me so sick! I really wanted to give ye a chance to explain."

"And you've got every right to hear the truth, my dear." He sighed, knowing that he would lose her forever if he wasn't honest with her now. Yet it was hard, so hard to find the right beginning. It would be much easier if he could tell Rowan the story of his lifetime in private. But Will and Elisabeth had already heard too much to send them away, and Jack- no chance at all. Probably that bloody scallywag had the same right as Rowan to hear the truth. "All right, make yourselves comfortable, whelps."

"My name is Miguel Alfonso de Santiago and I was born as second son to a Spanish nobleman back in 1446. At that time, medieval Europe was even more superstitious and irrational religious than it is now. Traditions were very important and strictly to be kept. Therefore, I knew the path my life would take from the moment I was born. The firstborn inherits the estates, the second joins the army and the third becomes a priest- that was the rule, set up generations before me. And because I was taught devoutness and obedience in the first place, I never doubted my part in society. I was a good, obedient son, so I joined the army without questioning it; instead I did my best that my father could be proud of me. A rapid rise lay before me.

Then, in 1478, Ferdinand of Aragon and Isabella of Castalia united their kingdoms by marriage to become one realm under one power and one religion, blessed by the Pope in Rome who gave then the glorious title _Los Reyes Catholicos_. Only the existence of the heathen Moorish kingdoms of Granada and Navarra spoiled their plans of a pure Christian state, and to me, they had every right to free Spain from those unbelievers; their crusade was unquestionable mine as well. It was a long fight though, lasting eleven years. I was already an officer when we took in Malaga in 1487 and sold nearly the whole population into slavery, yet it didn't break their resistance. They still had one last stronghold, and that was Granada, ruled by Abul Hassan Ali Abu Abdallah, called Boabdil. Nevertheless, four years later all but Granada was freed from the Moors and under Christian control again, and we besieged the city during a long cold winter. The Moors ran out of supply; there was just no day without any escape attempt yet my unit caught them all and made the heathens pay for their boldness. This got me the attention of the King Ferdinand himself. His Royal and Most Catholic Majesty granted me an audience and decorated me with the medal of bravery. I was so proud…"

Santiago paused; shaking his head lost in thoughts… _a proud, naïve fool knowing nothing_._ Now_ _I'm old and yet not much wiser, still egoistic._ He looked at his audience. The lovely honeymoon couple, Will and Elisabeth Turner, sat on a sofa, his strong arm around her slender shoulders, and the two pirates sprawled on some pillows on the floor, sharing a bottle of rum.

"That must have been a great honour to you." Elisabeth assumed, misunderstanding the pause as a sentimental moment.

"Oh, it definitely was, then. I got decorated because I did whatever I was told, like a puppet-on-strings. I was the good son, the brave soldier and most of all the faithful Catholic, defending the Christian ideology against unbelievers, heathens. They had to convert or die- it was just that simple.

Boabdil- or _el rey chicos_ as we called him- cut a poor figure in negotiating Granada's surrender, tired of fighting he forgot to claim any commitments of safety for his people, be it the right to keep their religion, their property or their culture. As it was an evil culture, contrary to the true faith, archbishop Jimenez immediately confiscated all books; they were the first to burn. There are lists about these successful exorcisms- today they only speak of unbelievable intolerance and led-astray ideology. They destroyed almost a million books, burned knowledge of inestimable value." He sighed, extremely sorry for all these precious knowledge going up in flames so long ago. "Then, I appreciated it, since these were heathen documents, written by unbelievers. After the fall of Granada it was my task to track down any Moor in the town, giving them the chance to convert and be baptized, or to die. That was just right by me. Who was I anyway not to fulfil my King's wish? Of course I was eager to do whatever His Most Catholic Majesty told me. I would have rather died than fallen from His grace. So we searched every house in Granada for hidden heathen rebels, and treacherously heathen rebels we found everywhere, lurking in corners only to kill good Christians. Soon we all got extremely nervous and our weapons were easy at hand. Then it happened, the incident that changed my life. We were in the caves of Sacromonte hill where the Moors preferred to hide recently, trying to escape the divine justice of the Inquisition. Suddenly I felt that someone was behind me so I didn't hesitate to turn around and shoot. I was quite shocked when I saw that I've just shot a little girl, a child- but not as shocked as the child's grandmother was. The old gypsy stared at me with awfully black eyes, blank like a mirror made in hell. Then she spoke these words I should never ever forget.

_Cursed shall thou be,_

_murderer of me beloved._

_Shall thou live and ne'er die_

_dwell forever upon yer unholy deed._

_A child's blood shed _

_shall only be repaid_

_by unconditional love for another_

_then thou may be free_

I must admit that I only laughed about it when I heard it first. I didn't take it serious, of course not. Instead, I told the soldiers subordinated to my command, that they should arrest that wicked old witch and submit her to the Inquisition. Like many others she burned at the stakes on Campo del Principe, and for a few years I nearly forgot that incident."

For quite a while already Rowan could hardly restrain herself, only curiosity and rum had kept her quiet yet- and Jack's talent to pass the bottle always at the opportune moment. Nevertheless, she was the powder keg and Santiago was the one who constantly gave off sparks, and it was just a matter of time until she would explode. There were only a few things she loathed more than narrow-minded, religious fanatics, and hearing with her own ears that Santiago had been one, that he had voluntarily participated in that horrifying Inquisition was really a shock to her.

"Ah, now that's were ye got the doubtful title Slayer of Granada from, aye? How many innocents have ye sent to the stake?" she snorted contemptuously. "My sympathies for the old gypsy woman, she had every right to curse ye. I only wish she'd chosen something else but immortality of all things."

"So you think immortality isn't suitable as a punishment? You're wrong with that. Actually, immortality itself is a curse. Just think about it- you're bound to live forever, you don't even age yet all others do, your friends, lovers, children. People start to wonder, start to say things behind your back, that there's something _odd _about you. At that time being called odd was extremely dangerous since the Inquisition ruled the land with an iron hand; arrests were on the agenda as well as denunciation, and intolerance gave birth to wrong accusations.

But I, I didn't notice anything when I came home, highly decorated for defending the Christian ideology against the heathens. For a few years I enjoyed my life as a very respected member of society; I had a decent marriage, two well-bred children and of course I went to mass with my family every Sunday. My reputation was taintless, the curse of the gypsy woman from Granada was long forgotten if ever been taken serious at all… It took me years to realize that my hair didn't turn any greyer nor fell out and that the wrinkles on my face just remained the way they were- to cut it short, I didn't seem to age yet my wife did and so did my children. Then I heard people talk behind my back, whispering that there's something odd about me. Rumours went around and suddenly even close friends avoided my gaze but secretly made the sign against evil eye when I walked by. Superstition took over control, the fear of the unknown, the inexplicable. Soon they forgot that I had been their hero once, that I had spent many years of my life fighting the unbelievers to establish a kingdom under one power and one religion. I became an outsider more and more, and my good reputation dissolved completely when some agents of the Inquisition arrived in the village I lived.

Ah, I knew the auto-da-fes in which the Inquisition judged too well, I had witnessed it too many times. Though my conscience was clear, I suddenly realized that I had no faith in the divine justice of the Inquisition if my own life is concerned. I had to disappear before they could start to ask unpleasant questions I had no answer for. Now, isn't it ironic? The heroic Slayer of Granada who had hunted down so many heathens was to become a victim himself. And then, while I ran through the night, the pursuers hard on my heels, there was that voice in my head again, pulsing in my blood. _Shall thou live and ne'er die, dwell forever upon yer unholy deed_. It struck me like thunder- the curse. But no, I still refused to believe it because these were unholy thoughts, blasphemy. Yet it was true. In the dark, black hours of that night I had to realize that it was true. I was cursed. I should have prayed for my soul now but I couldn't, I couldn't find the words. I had lost it all, my home, my family, my friends, and in these same dark, black hours of said night I also lost my faith."

"Well mate, it seems to me that granny had a rather sick sense of humour, aye?" Jack interjected with a certain thrill in his voice, he loved good stories and that was definitely one; yet he also had sympathy with Santiago- or Alf, as he called him.

"So it seems indeed," the Spaniard replied gloomily. "The curse made my life a misery and I was very embittered first, not willing to accept my fate. For a few years I hid in the woods and pitied myself, even tried to kill myself- which, of course, didn't work. I crept back to my home town a couple of times, saw my wife dying, my children falling ill with pestilence… they were buried but I still lived on. Then I became cynical and thought, well, if I have to life forever, I should better do it with more style. Gold became my new God, and I hoarded lots of it in dubious trades close to the edge of legality, when I heard of immense wealth that can be found in the Spanish colonies. Now, having already bought a new name and identity I decided to try my luck there, so I sailed to the West Indies. Maybe that journey finally opened my eyes. I saw beautiful islands but also as much tragedy. The Spaniards had 'christianised' the New World with the same methods they'd conquered Granada, with sword and oppression, slaying the Tainos that lived there like they'd slain the Moors. Actually it had even been the wealth of Granada that got them to the West Indies since King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella had granted Columbus an audience shortly after they had taken in the town; they received him in the Alhambra and graciously agreed to pay his voyage to India. So, blood money was used for more bloodshed, and all the gold ever to be gained there would also be tainted with blood. Maybe for the first time ever my conscience stirred, my real conscience and not the one I was taught. Instead of exploiting the natives I lived with them for a while. The Tainos were gentle people, peaceful and friendly- and contrary to official statements no animals. From them I learned a lot about the nature and for the time I lived with them I was nearly at peace with myself; nevertheless I couldn't delay the decline of their culture. They were decimated, sold into slavery, and I, I left the West Indies with the same unrest that drove me there. Like a passenger of time I travelled the world for some decades, and I learned. Knowledge became my newest drug. I studied at the most famous universities of this time, learned to speak many different tongues, but all the knowledge I achieved couldn't free me of my curse. Then I discovered forbidden arts, the art of magic. Impatient, eager to learn and still rather cynical I almost made my biggest mistake- I nearly chose the dark side. Fortunately, someone prevented me from going that path; it was a blind Siamese woman with the gift to look deep into the soul of a man. She knew immediately who I was and what I was- a doomed man of 151 years who still hasn't found his own way. So she took me by the hand and guided me, a blind woman made me see."

"You fell in love with her?" Elisabeth asked, so innocent in her romantic ideals that Santiago's face cheered up for a second. None else but her would have dared to ask this question and nevertheless he didn't answer at once, instead he sighed sadly.

"I should have known better but I had no chance. My marriage with Elena had been arranged and though I had grown quite fond of her over the years, I had never been in love before I met Aunchun. She was as gentle as she was wise, always at peace with herself and the rest of the world. I owe her so much. The years we had are still my most precious ones and when she died it nearly broke my heart, although I knew from the start that this would happen one day."

"My dearest sympathies, Don Miguel. This is quite tragic." Elisabeth shuddered at the very thought that she might lose her beloved Will one day, and even Rowan started to feel sorry with the Spaniard especially since he wasn't just fishing for sympathy.

"Tragic? Well, maybe it is, but on the other hand that's just the way I've deserved it. To love and to lose, like the gypsy woman had lost her beloved granddaughter. Yet Aunchun died of age and wasn't snatched from this life by force." Santiago paused, lost in thoughts for a moment. He'd rather avoided talking about Aunchun since it still hurts too much, even after all these years. Yet he had to go through that pain again, speaking out her name aloud for the first time in many decades if he ever wanted to tell the whole truth. She had been the turning point in his so far miserable life; she turned his path from darkness to light, she encouraged him to chose the harder way when it came down to magical studies and she also encouraged him to face that curse, to search the gypsies which had invented it…

"So I returned to Granada, to the place where all had started- the Sacromonte hill with its cave dwellings. Of course the old woman herself was long dead, burned at the stakes of the Inquisition, but some of her tribe were still living there. I told them my matter of concern and they politely heard me out. An old man smiled at me. _Señor, ye know all ye need to know, _he said with a toothless grin_, ye're a magician, si? Use yer own talents, don't bother us. Our knowledge of magic had died with Akshaya, the indestructible._

_Do you mean only she could undo the curse? _I gasped, feeling trapped in a dead end street once again. The old man giggled. _The answer is in yerself, Señor. _

I wasn't wiser than before but he had given me a clue. I had to continue my studies of magic to get more powerful as a magician because then I might be able lift the curse on my own. Therefore I had to deal with the history and origin of that gypsy tribe. Well, the Spanish word for gypsy, gitano, means 'Egyptian' so I travelled to Egypt. There I've found out that they came from even farther away and were actually of Hindu origin, from India."

"Ah, that's why we've been to India that often." Rowan interrupted frowning. "Now I understand yer fascination for old Sanskrit documents- ye were looking for a way to get rid of that curse. Well, ye should've told me."

"I've made a lot of mistakes in my life and that surely is one of them. But **when **should I have told you? Straight when we met for the first time and you threatened to chop off my fingers and eat them? Would you've felt better knowing that I'm a cursed man and a mighty magician?"

"She threatened to chop off yer fingers 'n eat 'em?" Jack gasped surprised, hugging Rowan tightly. "Now that's what I call a hellcat! I only kicked him on the shin."

Santiago rolled his eyes in pretended desperation. Though he still had some problems to accept that his dear girl had fallen in love with a scallywag like Jack Sparrow, somewhere deep down in his heart he secretly had to admit that they were a pretty couple- if you would ever call two typical pirates a _pretty couple._ But, after all is said and done you always get what you deserve.

"So, what else did ye do with yer life before ye decided to interfere in ours?" Rowan asked cheerfully snuggled in Jack's arms. Then, suddenly, a thought popped up in her head and that was a rather disturbing one; her eyes narrowed. "Hey, why did ye came to the West Indies anyway when ye're supposed to be busy in India? And don't tell me ye've mistaken it like Columbus."

She tried to free herself from Jack's embrace while he tried to prevent her from whatever she was about to do. After all, Alf has just said that he **was **a mighty magician. Now, that was fascinating, impressive and scaring at the same time- not that Captain Jack Sparrow was easily scared, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. "Hush luv, don't do anything stupid, aye?"

Infuriated she elbowed his ribs before she stared at Santiago, a bitter sound in her voice. "_A child's blood shed shall only be repaid by unconditional love for another-_ is it that? Bloody bastard, 'n I've almost felt sorry for ye! Ye never gave a fuckin' damn 'bout me or Jack, 't was never sympathy for any of us street urchins but mere egoism. Shame on ye! Ye gathered orphans like us just because of yer curse, because ye need the love of a child to be redeemed."

"Dear, you got it all wrong. It was never my intention to hurt your feelings." Santiago turned almost grey with shock and he buried his face in his hands. Somehow she was right- he **had **started his engagement with orphan kids just because of his curse, but soon he really cared for these kids; they cheered up his gloomy soul as only Aunchun had done, especially Rowan... and Jack. However, it was amazing how quick she'd figured out that the key to the curse lay in the words itself since it had taken him years to comprehend.

"But ye did!" She snapped. "Ye made me believe that ye cared for me, instead ye only cared for yerself. Ha, but I won't be the one who grants ye redemption!"

"Sht, calm down. Ye don't have to love him, savvy? Actually the curse says _by unconditional love **for** another_ _child_, so if I got it right it's enough that he loves you. If he doesn't…" Jack shrugged carelessly. "… well, his problem. But I guess we could all need a drink now, aye?"

The Spaniard agreed to that and got on his feet a bit too eagerly, apparently he was keen to leave the room for a while. Thoughts were whirling through his head, thoroughly shaken up by telling the story of his life for the first time, and he needed to sort them out before he could look Rowan in the eyes again. But would it ever be the same? He doubted it. Ah, it would be so easy if he could put all the blame on Jack, pretending that it was only Sparrow's doing which influenced her- yet it wasn't that easy and it wasn't Jack to blame just for once. No, it was all his own fault.

An uncomfortable silence followed Santiago's departure. Elisabeth tried to start some small talk but failed because her husband preferred to spoil it. While she wanted to hear more about island-romance, he just stared wordlessly and rather unfriendly at Jack until the pirate sighed.

"Look, whelp, Rowan was right- at least somehow. I really didn't know yer father **is** still alive before she said so, which means I didn't knew it when I met ye, savvy? And… um, when I saw him after the mutiny I was not- well, let's say, I didn't have all me wits about me. I was a bit indisposed then and tended to forget things…"

"I guess Jack wants to say that he was too pissed to remember." Rowan interjected helpfully.

"Thanks luv, ye're too kind." Jack pulled a face, theatrically rolling his eyes. "Don't listen to her, whelp, she's exaggerating. Imagine it rather like…" Now his hands were in the air, performing a weird and somehow hypnotising dance. "… like a door. Aye, like a door that slammed shut 'n I've just misplaced the keys."

Rowan couldn't help but laugh about Jack's way of saying sorry. However, Will wasn't that amused.

"A door. Slammed shut. Misplaced the keys. Damned, we're talking about my father, Jack! There are so many things I wanna know about him except that he was a good pirate- for instance, why did he never came to warn me, to reassure himself that I'm alive and well after he had sent that bloody medallion to me?"

Abruptly Rowan stopped laughing and got serious. "Well, now I'm the one to blame. Because I was injured at that time our voyage to England was delayed, and when we finally arrived there we had to find out that yer mother had died. First, there was no trace of yer whereabouts so we spent months searching the whole damned cold country for ye until we found yer name on a passenger's list of a ship that had long ago left for the Caribbean but never arrived there- ye know what happened. Bill thought ye're dead. Then we went to Asia and he chose to chase the dragon." "Dragon?" Will frowned. "You're not gonna tell me that my father tried to hunt dragons, are you?"

Rowan and Jack exchanged glances before they burst out into laughter, picturing Bill Turner on the hunt in their mind's eye. Will didn't understand what was going on at all; he just thought that they were both mad and that there's nothing worse than two mad pirates in love.

Everyone stiffened a bit when Santiago returned and the laughter died. The Turners suddenly felt a bit ill-a-ease in his presence, because it was one thing to fight against undead pirates and another one to drink a glass of wine with a 246 years old cursed magician. They didn't know which was weirder. Also, they would have liked to change the subject to brighter sides of life but it only got more gloomy- and once again it started with a book.

That book looked and even smelled really ancient, moreover it had an almost dangerously mysterious aura. The Spaniard placed it on the table and asked Rowan to have a look at it.

"Ah, Sanskrit?" She shrugged with feigned disinterest. "Ye know I can't read it."

"The balance of the transcendental powers of the universe is in total chaos, so please forget your animosity towards me for a moment. This is a serious matter. I need to know if that is the chalice you saw in Port Royal." He pointed at a picture and though Rowan got only half of what he had said she throw a glance at it- and froze. Then she nodded scarcely visible. The Spaniard beckoned the others over to him. "Has anyone of you seen this before?"

"That's a golden wine-mug." Jack assumed, nuzzling Rowan's hair. "I never cared much about wine before I met ye, luv."

Santiago shot him a look that could kill and the pirate decided it was wiser to step back a bit, letting go of her hair. "Sparrow, keep your dirty fingers away from her and your dirty thoughts to yourself. I would also appreciate it very much if you just stay silent unless you have something significant to say. Got it?"

_Oh no it starts again, _Rowan thought and felt really pissed off. But before she could say something offending, Will Turner surprised them all.

"Well, that looks somehow familiar to me…" he mumbled, chewing at his lower lip in concentration. Then he turned around to gaze at Jack. "Do you remember the day we left the Isla de Muerta?"

"Mate, how could I forget that? That was the day the Redcoats **almost** caught Captain Jack Sparrow."

"You took some treasures along from that cave."

"Aye. I had a nice crown- I wonder if Norrington wears it sometimes..."

"What?" Rowan yelled. Treasures. Isla de Muerta. Norrington. Adding one and one, and the result was a perfect mess.

"I wonder if Norrington wears it sometimes. You know, he seemed so keen to snatch the crown away from me as soon as we were aboard the Dauntless ..."

"Sparrow! I don't blame you for being obsessed with treasures, after all you're a pirate. But please, tell me what else you've taken along from the Isla de Muerta. Did you take a golden **wine-mug **as well?" Santiago seemed rather agitated; he grabbed Jack's shoulders and gave him a good shaking. "Remember, lad. This really is of significant importance."

It wasn't easy to remember something when you've just been called **lad**, especially when you're an infamous pirate captain who always liked to remind people of his title, and he attached significant importance to be called **Captain**. Nevertheless he didn't dare to correct Alf since Alf was a 246 year old magician.

It was Will who answered instead. "In fact there was a vessel, name it wine-mug or chalice, and it was golden. I wondered why Jack had chosen that of all things because it was rather plain, nothing spectacular; there were more precious things in the caves of Isla de Muerta."

"Dunno either. I already carried as much as I could but… well, somehow it _begged_ me to be taken along and I just couldn't reject. But actually I didn't even like it." Jack confessed, now remembering clearly. He smirked because of the memory. "Yet the Commodore did. He seemed quite fascinated 'bout that plain thing- ah, I always knew he has a plain taste. Nothing against you dear Elisabeth… Alf, ye're okay?"

The Spaniard had turned deadly pale again; he nodded and shook his head all at the same time. "Aye. I mean no. I've already feared- expected- that the chalice is from Isla de Muerta and yet I hoped that it wouldn't prove to be true."

"Don't talk in riddles, Santiago. What is that chalice?" Rowan impatiently pressed for an answer. Since she had seen it for the first time she wanted to know, needed to know.

"It's the Chalice of Doom."

All fell silent. These words had already been enough to cause an eerie atmosphere and send shivers down the spine; everyone felt intimidated- everyone but Captain Jack Sparrow.

"Ah, the Chalice of Doom, well well. What is it good for?" he asked matter-of-factly.

"There's nothing **good **about it at all. That chalice is an old and very evil vessel. A skilled black magician can use it to enslave souls, and apparently he has already done so with Commodore Norrington. But the chalice can hold much more than one soul, in fact it can hold many thousands, doomed to be sacrificed to an evil Goddess, the personification of utter darkness, and destruction. Nevertheless, you need a statue of that Goddess to sacrifice these captured souls to her and set her free, free to terrorize the world with a cacophony of calamity, deceit, decay, disease, death and perversion."

_No. Please no. Not her again_! Rowan gasped for breath. The blood rushed to her head, throbbed heavily in her temples like a drum and all other sounds faded to oblivion. She felt numb, like she had been wrapped in layers of cotton wool. From a very far distance she heard someone asking the name of that goddess- it could have been Jack's voice- but she already knew the answer long before Santiago spoke it out aloud.

"Nirrti."

_Nirrti. Nirrti. Nirrti_, it echoed in her head.

12


	13. 12 Nirrti

12. Nirrti's Chosen

Rowan shuddered, trembling all over as whirling clouds of impenetrable blackness revealed a cruel face in her mind's eye, the face of a black skinned blonde goddess. _Go away_, she wanted to scream, but only a whimper escaped her mouth; it sounded quite frightening. Though she wasn't easy to scare she felt the urge to run away, somewhere. To hide herself from that vision, from unwanted, horrifying memories of her past. Yet she couldn't move; she was frozen in her tracks as if she was paralysed. With eyes wide open she stared into space, trapped in a world of never-ending nightmares where everything else was locked out. From a very far distance she heard people speak all at once, knowing that they must be wondering about her behaviour, asking what's wrong with her. She wished they would all go away and leave her alone but that was very unlikely.

Suddenly someone shook her thoroughly. "Rowan! Are ye okay?"

She gazed at Jack as if he was a stranger and started to laugh hysterically. _Okay?_ _Nah, nothing's **okay**. Mypast has just caught up with me, reminding me of things that should've remained dead and buried. Ever been chosen to be sacrificed to a Goddess? No? So don't ask me no questions and I'll spare you my lies; I can't talk about it. The memory's maddening me, suffocating me…_

"Rowan!" Jack shook her again he sounded alarmed and really worried. Her eyes scared him most; they were huge, dominating her now pale face, and they were of a colour he'd never seen before, a pale grey with an eerie shade of green. Frantically he turned to Santiago. "Damned Alf what's happening here? What's wrong with Rowan? Is it because of that Nirrti Goddess?"

"You ask me what happens here? Boy, you got a nerve. May I remind you that you took the chalice from the caves of Isla de Muerta."

"I can't breathe. I need some fresh air…" Rowan gasped, pretending to faint any minute to keep the two man from quarrelling and blaming each other. Apparently it worked. They gazed at her as if they were surprised that she was able to speak. At once, Jack's arm came around her waist to steady her while he looked daggers at the Spaniard. _See what you've done_, his eyes seemed to say.

"Shh luv, ev'rything's all right. I'll take ye away from here. We go aboard the Pearl 'n get something decent to drink." he soothed her and felt reassured when she flung her arms around his neck, clinging close to him for a moment. But then she let go of him as abruptly as she had embraced him before and pushed him aside; in great haste she left the room and slammed the door.

Jack was taken aback and so was everyone else. While the Turners probably thought that Rowan's strange behaviour topped even Santiago's revelation, Jack immediately headed for the door to follow Rowan but then he turned halfway, grabbed the Spaniard by the collard and gave him a good shake.

"Who the hell's Nirrti 'n what has she done to me woman? And don't dare to tell me that all's my fault. I didn't take that bloody chalice to wake a bloody goddess, savvy!"

"Aye, I know. The Chalice of Doom begged you and you couldn't resist its call."

Jack's eyes narrowed but Alf surprisingly wasn't cynical now.

"Actually, that's the nature of the Chalice. It wanted to be released from that cave because it hungers for souls. I'm just glad that it didn't have any effect on you."

"Thanks mate ye're too kind. So when the Chalice has eaten enough souls it throws them up to the feet of a statue and that brings in the Goddess herself. Well, but why was Rowan scared out of her wits as if she'd seen a ghost when ye mentioned the name of Nirrti? Who's she? And spare me the talk of destruction, darkness, calamity, decay and death 'cause that I know." Jack appeared impatiently since he had the feeling that he was only wasting time here, time better spent following Rowan.

"Nirrti's a very old and very evil Hindu goddess, so to speak an early personification of Kali but without her creator aspect. Sorry lad, that's all I can tell you. If you want to know more ask Rowan though I doubt she will tell you the whole story…"

"Ah, I knew I was wasting my time!" Jack snapped and let go of the Spaniard to catch up Rowan. The sun was already beginning to sink when he left the house and with the increasing shadows Tortugan nightlife awoke. More and more shady creatures roamed the streets looking for a drink, a good lay or a fight. Yet there was no sign of her flashy red hair to see.

As Jack Sparrow had already expected it, he found Rowan aboard the Jewel Star- of course, his ship, his beloved Black Pearl, would also be his favourite refuge when things went dreadfully wrong and he needed a place to literary lick his wounds.

"Hey, why didn't ye wait for me luv?" he yelled cheerfully.

Alas, she wasn't very pleased to see him. "What d'ye want? Can't ye just leave me alone?"

"Um… no." he replied, not knowing what he'd done wrong. Well, she **was **in a weird mood, that for sure, but that was no reason to take her temper out on him. He reached out one hand to stroke her cheek, noticing that she was still unusually pale. "Come on, why don't ye just tell me what's bothering ye? There's nothing we can't talk about, savvy?"

"Sorry, Jack. I don't wanna talk. I'm tired 'n really pissed off. So please leave me alone, aye?" She turned and headed for the companions way but he followed her obstinately.

"Well, we don't have to talk. We can as well continue what we've done last night. D'ye remember?"

Rowan sighed. Of course she remembered everything and it had been a wonderful night, full of passion, desire and love- yet that had been last night. Today, everything was different. Today, Nirrti had rushed back into her life with full force and though the memory didn't paralyse her anymore the face was still there, black and cruel. Ah, it was a tempting thought to seek oblivion in Jack's arms but on the other hand she knew that she couldn't stand any intimacy this night.

"Good night Jack." she said and tried to close the cabin door behind her but his boot blocked the threshold. "Damned, which part of 'leave me alone' ye didn't understand?"

"Just gimme a goodnight kiss, luv."

She sighed again, raising her head to slightly brush his lips with hers but he took advantage of the situation and kissed her thoroughly. Her wantonly body nearly betrayed her. It would be so easy to ignore the past and every God or Goddess… yet she couldn't disregard the fact that her world was in a total mess, shattered and torn into pieces. At the moment she didn't even know if she loved Jack at all, she only felt agitated. Unceremoniously she shoved him aside, slamming the door in his face. BANG!

What a nasty sound. Had that been the right decision? Rowan uncorked a bottle of wine and didn't even bother to use a glass, instead she drank half of it straight while she dropped onto her bed. It didn't help much though. The face wouldn't go away even if she'd drown in a barrel of wine. Yet layer after layer of suffocation cotton wool had fallen off her; the last one when Jack had kissed her. Damned Jack! He shouldn't have followed her since she really needed to be alone now, to think things over and not to take her mind off things.

So, Nirrti was back in her life. The horrible Hindu Goddess, the personification of utter darkness, the Goddess to whom she should have been sacrificed once. Of course it hadn't suited her to become Nirrti's chosen sacrifice and it had demanded an immense sacrifice from her to stop her evil doings. Yet she would do it again without hesitation.

Anyway, that's how it had ended but the whole affair began when she came to Madras, about eight years ago and still chilled to the bone from her stay in England…

_Ah, how I hated London! Weeks and months of never-ending sleet, freezing any emotion. I felt frigid, my strength spent with pregnancy, miscarriage and the bloody cold. All I wanted was to curl up beside the chimney of our rented house and sleep. Should Santiago and Bill go to search Bill's son in vain; I didn't care. My senses were reduced to a minimum, I just lived but never even cracked a smile. London nearly broke me- Barbossa would laugh if he'd know since he tried to break me but failed. Now, isn't it ironic what a proper dress can do to a person who hates to wear dresses just to please the conservative Englishmen? Didn't work though. They still pointed at me and** whore** was the nicest word I can remember…_ _What a relief it was to be back at sea again!_

_Finally warm winds filled our sails and the air smelled sweeter- not like damp cold cabbage. India! The velvet darkness of warm summer nights mixed with an overwhelming scent of spices, there was music in the air. I strolled along the old medieval quarters of Madras and all the shit that had kept me in bounds broke off, for the first time in months I felt alive again. Wherever I looked I saw friendly faces, pretty faces with dark eyes. The women dressed in colourful Saris and the men… well, they interested me again. For the first time since Barbossa had raped me I was in the mood to start an affair. Hmm, no, it wasn't only the mood, it was also the opportunity; there just hadn't be any opportunity before- certainly not in England..._

Tyagraja was a poet, a sitar player who loved to spend the nights in the taverns of Madras enchanting his audience with his tunes and poetry. He was a handsome man of well proportioned, slender figure with long black hair and soft dark eyes. Also he was the Maharaja's second son but Rowan didn't know that when she met him. Probably she wouldn't have cared anyway since she was here to have fun and he really flattered her when he just like that composed a song as soon as he lay eyes on her.

A Jewel made of gold, emerald and rubies,

a dazzling beauty,

but dressed in rags.

The goddess of the gutter she is.

Have I meet the woman of my dreams tonight?

That was how it all started. They spent the night together in his tiny, messy room at the first floor of a tavern and he made her whole again. He was as skilled in the art of lovemaking as he was with his sitar, imprinting poems on her skin with his mouth. She just yielded; instead of merely seeking one night of pleasure she fell in love with him.

The weeks to follow were some of the happiest in her life and she didn't even care that Santiago had left her in Madras to go about his own business. It would be a surprise for her he had told her when they parted. Well, that was ok with her.

One thing she loved most about Tyagraja was that he never tried to change her ways, he only showed her some new and interesting directions, and one of these directions led her to Kali. Never being a religious person herself she wasn't too keen to accompany him to the shrine of the Goddess he adored but she did him that favour. And was stunned. The uncanny image of Kali repelled and fascinated her simultaneously. Kali, the dark and terrible mother, essentially wild, untameable and bizarre but also somehow beautiful. She had the colour of a thundercloud, four arms, unruly flowing hair, and she was naked except for a necklace of human skulls and a girdle of human arms. Really horrifying…

…_no, not really. Kali just represents the dark side of life, everything in human life and nature we would prefer to deny and ignore, smugly assign to a past that's long dead and buried. Yet life has its dark and its light sides- who knows it better than me? Love and hate are two sides of the same coin and Kali is a constant reminder of that. To live is to risk, sometimes to loose and to encounter pain. Yeah, there was still a certain pain locked deep inside of me, then, but I couldn't lock it forever, one day it would come roaring out to take over mind and soul. Worshipping Kali was to face it, to accept that life is to die because death is a necessary and inevitable consequence of having fully lived. Ah Kali, I haven't prayed to you for many years but somehow you're still in my heart. Tyag told me your wisdom once- how could he dare to betray you so badly?_

Rowan rose from the bed, rummaging about her private things until she found what she had been looking for- a small bronze statue of the Goddess Kali that Tyagraja had given her a long time ago. She opened another bottle of wine before she curled up in her pillows again, holding the statue tightly in her hand. Even after all these years she still didn't comprehend just why everything had to go so dreadfully wrong. After all, she had gotten over the fact that Tyagraja wasn't a poor poet but of noble descent. She had met his father, the Maharaja, a very gentle old man who appeared to be quite fond of her, the unsuitable pirate bride of his youngest son. But there was also Shardul, the firstborn, Tyagrara's brother, the next Maharaja of Madras to be. A shiver ran down her spine when she remembered their first meeting as he undressed her wantonly with his eyes, wanted her, envied his little brother although he had a harem of woman to satisfy his lust a hundred times over. He was a handsome man yet there was something dark, cruel and almost brutal about him.

_Tyag never saw that dark side, the greed in Shardul's eyes. He idolized his brother, loved him with the stubbornness of a child. It was his love that carried us all away. He would have done everything for him and he did. Why didn't I notice the changes in his behaviour? His cheerfulness simply faded a little bit more each day- or night, since he spent many nights with his brother in the crematorium ground, worshipping Kali by bringing her blood sacrifices. He never took me along, knowing I wouldn't like it. He should've also known that I'm not a housewife waiting for him to come home. It wasn't curiosity but caution, better being safe than sorry; these are things a pirate learns. I asked him why it has to be blood instead of flowers or incense._

_'Kali has to be freed from the bounds of civilisation. We'll be rewarded with fortune and fame.'_

_'Bloody nonsense!' I cursed. 'If I want a fortune I set sails and commandeer a spice trader's vessel.'_

_He smiled wryly at me and begged me to trust him. Stupid me I did. But did he really believe his own words? I still wanna believe that Shardul brainwashed him, that he knew nothing of Shardul's real plans, evil plans…_

She shuddered, suddenly freezing in the warm Caribbean night. If she had only known then what she knew now. That Tyagraja had told his brother of her time with the Maroons, that she had been their Goddess Who-Died-To-Live and therefore would be the perfect sacrifice to Nirrti, the ancient Vedan Goddess of death and destruction. She was a black skinned goddess with long golden hair, an ancient proto-Kali. Yet while Kali was the terrible but essentially loving mother, all Nirrti wanted was to destroy, cause death and grief; her path was that of eternal darkness.

_'…a ritual, my precious ruby, to verify our love and make it last forever.' Who was the naïve fool, me or him? Never heard of a **love ritual** that takes place_ _in the crematorium ground. Yet I agreed- or at least I made him believe that I'd love to fuck him on a grave with priests of an evil death cult watching us, intoning their unholy prayers. Not that I knew it then, I still had to find out._

_There was an eerie atmosphere in the palace when Marris and I sunk in. All the curtains were drawn tightly that no sunshine could get in, not a single one of these beautiful crystal chandeliers was lit and only a few simple candles here or there shed a little light. Where were all the servants gone? The place reeked of death and we soon figured out why._

_'… select a newly dead male corpse preferably a hero, a warrior or a king. If he has recently died a violent death so much the better…if possible, the high priest who offers the human sacrifice to her Maliciousness, the Divine Queen of Darkness, should be a king or of high ranking…' Marris quoted that bloody document. We exchanged a look and knew it all, we just had to replace king with maharaja. Shardul had murdered his father to become king himself and practically he had a kingly corpse as well. I couldn't breathe, I had to get outta there..._

Later she was told that most of the servants had already been dismissed, some had vanished in a rather mysterious way while others, who might have witnessed the murder, got their tongues cut out. Also, Maharaja Shardul liked no men in his service except for his guards so everyone else had to be castrated, and the only one who escaped his fate was Rashid, now ship's cook on the Jewel Star.

_We sat in a tavern close to the docks then, making plans and discarding them, when the most beautiful ship I've ever seen lay anchor, and Santiago walked up to me. _

_'Happy birthday Rowan. Hope you like my little present.'_

_How weird can one single day of your life be? That surely topped it all. Too many things were in my head so I just creased up with hysterical laughter. Finally I had my own ship! I had forgotten my birthday! I had to stop the man I loved and who somehow surely loved me too from scarifying me to Nirrti! Why didn't I go aboard my very own beautiful ship and sail away from Madras? I dunno. All I could do was to ask Santiago how fast my ship is._

_'It's the fastest in the world and that it surely will be for the next hundred years. See, I had a vision…'_

Rowan touched the dark, smooth wood her ship was build of, feeling comforted for a short moment. Santiago hadn't lied to her. The Jewel had proved to be the fastest ship in the world. She gulped down more wine and was back in Madras once again…

… _the drums are beating faster than my own heart. We were dressed like we'd attend a wedding, our wedding. Yet it wasn't. There was nothing cheerful about it. The priests wore masks, black masks… I see your face again, so solemn and earnest. You still believed we'd make a vow of eternal love and I- damn me, I wanted you so badly, just one last time… so berserk… I saw her in a blurred crimson vision; the horrifying image of Nirrti smiled at me, satisfied with her sacrifice, with Nirrti's chosen… for an instant I saw what the world's gonna be if she succeeds. No! Then I felt the presence of Kali, wrapping me in her arms… there's blood on my hands… Yet I had no other choice… And after all's said and done there was still Marris, always Marris- who else could have saved me from rage, wrath and madness?_

Tears ran down her cheeks, for the first time ever she cried for Tyag. He had become a distant but constant memory through the years, and many times she had wondered if there had been another way instead of killing him. That had been the hardest decision she ever had to make and it had demanded an immense sacrifice from her. After that, she'd gone through all different kinds of emotions.

First, she was totally shocked about herself, that such a wild and even bloodthirsty rage could have taken control over her. Yet the sea soothed her as soon as she stood at the helm of her wonderful, very own ship, feeling the wind in her hair. Then she was angry with Tyagraja for his blind belief and trust in his brother though everyone but him knew that Shardul was a cruel man. Later, there was only bitter emptiness and numb grief left but never ever a single tear for Tyag until now.

Somehow it felt good, it was relieving. It felt like finally ending a chapter of her life to start a new one, even to love again. Marris had been right about that, it really was time. Suddenly she longed almost desperately for Jack and buried her head in the pillows, feeling lonely. Her bed became much too big for her alone and his scent still lingered everywhere, a masculine scent of salt, sea, endless horizons- and rum. Yet **he** wasn't there because she had sent him away; she had slammed the door in his face. If only she wasn't feeling so lonely and abandoned at the moment. Now she regretted her harsh reaction although she knew that she had really needed her time alone to conquer her memories, and although she hadn't been in the mood for any intimacy then she definitely was now. After all, you can't wrap your arms around a memory.

Rowan decided that it was time to look for Jack even if that meant going aboard the Black Pearl and face its hostile crew as long as she could crawl into his bed and into his arms in the end.

"You're not welcome here." Anamaria blocked the gangway, arms folded defiantly across her chest. It was obvious that she hadn't any intention of letting Rowan aboard without trouble.

"Yep, I know that but I don't give a damn. I have to talk to Captain Sparrow." Rowan replied a bit wearily. The sun had already risen and after a sleepless night haunted by Nirrti she really wasn't in the mood to quarrel with that irritating dark haired woman who still blocked the gangway.

"You could have saved yourself the trip. He's not in his cabin. Good bye."

Rowan rolled her eyes, slowly getting impatient. "I said I have to talk to yer Captain, lass. So ye better tell me where he is and save yerself a lotta trouble."

A triumphant smile curled up Anamaria's lips and she took advantage from the lovely situation that the red-haired bitch had no idea of Jack's whereabouts. "**You** don't know where he is? Well, well, so he's already fed up with you. Poor Rowan."

Rowan decided to ignore her and squeezed past Anamaria, nearly pushing her from the gangway into the water. Then she headed for Jack's cabin and found it empty like Anamaria had said.

"I've told you Jack's not in his cabin. Wanna check mine? Maybe ye find him there, still exhausted from the bliss **I** gave him."

"You? He couldn't needed it **that **badly." The words came out of Rowan's mouth without thinking, because if she'd thought about it she had known that this probably wasn't the wisest thing to say to a jealous woman. Jealous and infuriated- a truly dangerous combination to deal with. But she was tired, a bit drunk, and her mind was still occupied with the things that had gone so dreadfully wrong in India.

"Arrogant bitch!" Anamaria slapped her hard.

Rowan raised her brows, feeling rather superior to a woman who could only slap or trip her. "Now that's what I'd call a lack of arguments."

"How 'bout that argument?" Anamaria drew a dagger, now really infuriated by Rowan's calm arrogance and eager to cut that arrogant smile off her face.

"Ah, stop that lass 'n I'll do ye no harm. Savvy?" _Damned I'm tired, I'm dejected, I wanna be held…I 'm definitely **not **in the mood to quarrel nor start a fight…_

Butactually she** was** in the midst of a quarrel already. She wondered what Anamaria was up to now. Watching her she felt a bit dizzy since the dark haired woman had the nerve-racking habit of throwing her dagger from one hand to the other, and that she did really fast.

"Yo ho, yo ho a pirate's life for me. We pillage and plunder, we rifle and loot…", some drunks were singing in the distance; it sounded quite dissonant and distracting. After all, it distracted Rowan. For an instant she forgot keeping a sharp eye on Anamaria, and that instant was enough for her opponent to attack her. From the corner of her eye she saw the blade coming down on her but after two bottles of wine her reactions were slowed. She stumbled aside and stared at her left arm in disbelief. There was a narrow red line painted in blood that stretched across her forearm from her elbow to her wrist.

"…we're devils, we're black sheep, we're really bad eggs…"

The untalented singing had come closer when Rowan finally felt the pain. That damned bitch had really tried to stab her! She'd gone too far. No matter if Rowan hadn't been in the mood for a fight before, she definitely was now. Actually the desire to beat Anamaria black and blue increased even more with every pulse-beat of pain that shot through her arm, and a crimson cry for blood-thirsty revenge blurred her mind.

"…drink up me hearties yo ho!" Two drunks sang cheerfully, staggering and stumbling down the quay, leaning on each other in familiarity as if they were best friends; white-blond messy hair mingled with black messy hair. Yet the cheerful tune died abruptly on their lips when they noticed what was going on aboard the Black Pearl. Jack and Marris sobered up straight.

"NO! No, no, no! Stop that!" Jack shouted while he ran up the gangway, wagging his hands dramatically in his typical way. He wanted to intervene in the cat fight and settle it, but instead he had to take beating himself before he could separate the two women. "Damned! **Stop it now**! No fighting aboard **my** ship, savvy!"

Breathless the women stared at him and then back at each other again. Rowan wondered if she also looked like a shorn sheep as Anamaria did, with torn clothes, hair in a total mess, and bruises that promised to turn out quite colorful soon. Anyway, that wasn't the right moment to be vain. She just wished meeting Jack would have been slightly different or at least not like that.

"Hey, what's wrong between ye two? There's no reason behaving that nasty so calm down ladies, will ye? Shake hands 'n be friends again."

Ha! Rowan wanted to laugh out loud but bit her lips instead. Now, what was worse- that she had to shake hands with her best foe, that Jack still hasn't noticed Anamaria's jealousy, or that he might get the idea they'd been fighting over him? Definitely the latter was the worst and even more as it wasn't true, of course not. She'd never fight because of a man. Actually she hadn't wished to fight at all, it had only been for self-protection.

"I just showed her a few tricks, that's all. Ye know, it's kinda dangerous being a woman these days." She said with a sarcastic undertone in her voice.

"Tricks?" Of course Captain Jack Sparrow wasn't to be led astray that easily since he usually kept his eyes wide open, even when he was drunk. And what he had seen here wasn't what he'd call a training session. Also there was blood on Rowan's arm.

"Aye." Anamaria hated to play along the game for which the damned red haired had set the rules, but she was also well aware of the fact that her Captain wouldn't appreciate her attempt to kill his new favorite.

Jack wrapped an arm around Rowan's waist and pulled her a bit closer so that he could have a better look at her wounded arm. "Ye're injured, luv. How could that happen?"

"That was a trick gone wrong." Anamaria said coolly. Her eyes shot daggers at the red-haired bitch who had the nerve to snuggle boldly in Jack's embrace, fluttering her lashes at him. That was just sick. More annoying was only that she had to keep her mouth shut before Rowan changed her mind and told Jack what really had transpired between them. Hopefully that slut won't expect her to be thankful.

"Ah, it's just a scratch. Nothing to worry about." Rowan couldn't resist to flash a triumphant smile at Anamaria as Jack began to nuzzle her neck.

Marris, who had followed Jack immediately, sensed that there's still trouble in the air and he did understand the glances Rowan and Anamaria exchanged exactly the way they were meant to be- as an extension of their fight but with words and looks instead of fists. They weren't done with each other yet. He felt sorry for Anamaria because he knew that she'd lose sooner or later; she couldn't match Rowan. Santiago had paid the best teachers throughout Asia to teach her all kinds of martial arts and he hadn't spent his money in vain- although she had been in many respects too impatient to learn one technique in perfection. He also knew that she tended to play things down. "Lemme have a look. Yep, it's just a scratch. Great. So we don't have to wake Santiago and ask him if some stitches are needed?"

"Stitches?" Rowan turned pale. No matter how tough she usually was, she had a healthy respect of Santiago's needle and the mere thought of a needle piercing her soft flesh made her shudder.

"Just kidding."

Marris grinned but she wasn't in the mood for his sick sense of humor. Suddenly she felt weary again. Now that the fight was over her adrenalin level had sunken below zero and all she wanted was to sleep. Somewhat accusingly she elbowed Jack. "Where've ye been? I've been looking for ye."

"Me? Well I… um, I had a few glasses of rum with Marris down at the Faithful Bride…"Jack squirmed a little, feeling quite uneasy because he didn't know what he should have told her if her first mate hadn't shown up there. Of course he'd been dying for a drink after she'd turned him down, and the Faithful Bride is always the best place in town to get drunk. Well, not only to get drunk but also to find oneself a nice, willing company- someone who didn't slam the door in his face and let him die in sexual frustration. Yeah, he'd been looking for an uncomplicated screw. What's wrong with that? After all, he's a pirate and it's only natural that pirates enjoy themselves with doxies. So what?

_It's not my fault that they buzzed around me, attracted like moth to a flame and the flame was me, the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow. I had two lovely wenches sitting on my lap, one blonde and one brown, enchanted b my charms. I could have been a luck guy. But I kept on thinking of red hair, the color of red-wine, and suddenly their kisses tasted foul… whores' kisses, tongues licking my teeth like already counting the coins they're gonna get… the smell of cheap perfume, too many layers of make-up covering worn-out faces. Ah, that Marris guy just spared me money and a big folly. _

Jack remembered how he'd winced when Rowan's first mate walked up to him, asking if he was willing to share, an odd smile on his face. He shooed the chicks away, pretending that nothing had happened, but Marris wasn't here to moralize or remind him of Rowan.

_Thank hell it's him and not Santiago or I'm a dead man now._

_"What d'ye know about Indian deities?"_

_There are some strange things about Indian deities. They're usually quite colorful_, _some have animal face, and they have many arms…Nah, that wasn't what Marris meant. Then he told me a strange story about a love lost and Indian goddesses, Kali and Nirrti, or Kali who'd once been Nirrti but became Kali then and shall be Nirrti again, and therefore a mad Maharaja needed a human sacrifice which should be Rowan of all people. Ha! He was in love with a Goddess' chosen…_

Nirrti's chosen, who just looked up at him with emerald eyes he could drown in, simply uttering that she was tired and wanted to go to bed now. That was perfectly alright to Jack since she obviously wanted to go to bed with him. So it was better to be off before Marris might decide to tell Rowan about the time he'd spent with the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, although it was also quite obvious that the blonde fuzzy-head apparently had other things in mind. Jack couldn't help but crack a smile when he saw him following Anamaria, who was about to leave the deck. Now, that was really interesting.

"I don't wanna talk." Rowan stated when she entered Jack's cabin.

"That's alright to me luv. Just come here." He patted invitingly the empty side of the bed next to him while he watched her undress. Naked she crawled under the black, silken sheets and snuggled herself comfortably into his arms. Well, that was what he'd call a promising start.

She sighed when his hands cupped her breast and his lips nibbled along the delicate line of her neck, but she was too tired, emotionally too exhausted to get stimulated by his touch. All she wanted was to sleep with his arms wrapped around her, feeling the warmth of his skin.

Captain Jack Sparrow was a bit puzzled when Rowan just fell asleep in his arms. He raised his head and gazed at her, not knowing how to deal with that situation since he'd never ever shared his bed with a sleeping woman before. Of course, there'd been other women in his bed but they had only satisfied his needs and were forgotten soon after. Why was it so different with her? Why does it feel so damned good just to hold her in his arms? He was startled with that much intimacy and yet he longed for it. Well, apparently the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow was getting soft,

"Sleep well, my love." He whispered in her ear as he rested his head next to hers, knowing that this night for the first time since years he'd sleep well too.

10


	14. 13 the calm before the storm

**author's note:** One morning I woke up and had 13 new reviews! Thanks a lot **Cayenne Pepper Powder** and welcome to my obsession. Glad you warmed up to Rowan Scarlett. I hope you like the new chapter.

**Ellennar:** So you're beginning to like Marris. That's good. I think there will be more about him.

**13. The calm before the storm**

Miguel Alfonso de Santiago turned up his nose as he walked through Cayona's dock area, wishing he'd taken the carriage. Despite all the years he knew that part of town, he'd never get used to the incredible stench. Also he'd never understand what made it so attractive to grown-up men to wallow in the filth like pigs, even if said men were stranded outsiders of society. He didn't grudge them the fun they had with cheap booze and whores, and if they absolutely needed a public screw it was up to them as well. But why didn't they know when to stop? Why did they always have to fall asleep in their own vomit? That was the most disgusting thing to him. Yet all sailors, villains, pirates and adventurers of the Caribbean got shiny eyes whenever the name 'Tortuga' was mentioned, and almost everyone had a story of his stay in the most lawless harbour to tell; a story that probably ended in vomit.

The Spaniard took a deep breath when he finally reached the quay and a fresh breeze blew from the sea, driving away the bad smell. His heart leapt at the sight of the two dark ships that were moored there; the imposing, majestic shape of the Black Pearl with all her beautiful wooden carvings and next to her lay her little sister, the more slender and less extravagant decorated Jewel Star.

With a smile on his face he entered the Jewel and headed for the captain's cabin in order to look for Rowan Scarlett. But even before he could walk down the companions way, a voice called him back.

"She's not in there."

He turned around to see Marris sitting on a coil of ropes, idly polishing his cutlass.

"Ah, so where's she?"

Marris pointed his head at the Black Pearl when he saw Santiago pulling a face. He sighed, slightly annoyed but most of all unnerved. "Nah, not again. Listen mate, I've already spent hours setting Anamaria straight that she's only in love with the idea of loving the famous Captain Jack Sparrow, since a woman who- because of a lack of arguments- continuously slaps the guy she thinks she loves can't possibly love him dearly, and therefore she's not the right one for that man; especially if said man is Jack Sparrow."

"Did she get what you're talking about, lad?" Santiago asked ironically, raising a bewildered brow at the blonde pirate.

"Well, she slapped me. Guess she likes me a lot." He grinned at the thought of the fierce Mulatto woman, but only a second later his eyes narrowed. "That's not the point. The point is that I'm getting sick and tired of it. Damned, am I the only one to see clearly what's obvious? This is a **pirate** love-story, mad, wild, and maybe even self-destructive. But can you keep an untameable animal in a golden cage, bearing to see it die like a flower fading in the shade? Can you tame the wind or burn the devil? You can't. So do me a favour and leave them alone since there's nothing you can do about it."

"You're being very cryptic this morning- or should I call it philosophical? Anyway, I promise to keep your words in mind but I really have to talk to Rowan now. Am I right to assume that she's aboard the Black Pearl with Jack?"

Marris rolled his eyes. Just what had he been talking about the whole time? Of course Rowan was with Jack! He sighed. "Well if ye gotta go 'n disturb them better make a detour through the galley and take a pot of tea along. Ye know what she's like early in the morning."

The Spaniard looked sceptically at the sky; the sun was already at its zenith. But then he just shrugged. Maybe he was too old to remember what it was like to be young and in love, therefore Marris may be right. Ah, Marris was definitely right. That blonde fuzzy-head had a certain talent to see more than meets the eyes, a very rare gift._ If only he wouldn't be so slackly in nature, too cheeky to take anything serious and always ready to crack a joke… then he'd even be able to become a magician…_ _Alas, though he might be an undiscovered talent he surely lacked patience, concentration and most of all respect for that secret knowledge…_

It was the same secret knowledge that welcomed Santiago when he set foot on the dark planks of the Black Pearl, because these planks literally breathed with magic. It was the magic he'd used to give Jack a safe refuge, a swimming, impregnable fortress, and the fastest ship in the Caribbean. Yet that daft fool didn't even know where he got the Pearl from…

_Should I've wrapped a red ribbon around her hull like a birthday present, including a card that read 'all the best to you', signed with my name? He wouldn't have appreciated it anyway. After all, he didn't wish me to interfere in his life anymore, not after Panama and certainly not after the mutiny. He made that unmistakably clear… _The Spaniard sighed… _It still hurts, and I'll never forget the harsh words he shouted at me when I finally found him, partying with the rum runners. He was so completely out of his own then, drunk and probably stuffed with all kinds of drugs. Maybe he has learned his lesson now, maybe he has changed in the meantime- or maybe I've never really figured him out. Who knows?_

"Don Miguel, are you alright?"

"Mr. Gibbs! Nice to meet you." Santiago replied politely but suddenly he felt rather stupid. After all, he'd just walked aboard the most famous pirate vessel, carrying a tray with two steaming mugs of **tea** in his hands and looking for Rowan as if he was her cabin boy. He- a cursed, 246 years old magician. It seems no matter how old you are you can still manage to look ridiculous. He cleared his throat. "Well, I was obviously a bit lost in my thoughts. Actually I'm looking for Captain Scarlett. I was told she's here."

Gibbs made a sign to avoid evil and pointed to the captain's cabin. "Aye, she's in there, alas. Please forgive me for speaking so freely but if you ask me it's frightful bad luck to have **one **woman aboard and now we have **two.**" He took a gulp from his little silvern flask he always carried along to underline that this was really too much for him.

Santiago just nodded and continued his way, hindered by no one. The few man on guard let him pass since they already knew him; after all, he'd been the one who'd repaired the Pearl when help was bitterly needed.

Then he entered Jack's cabin and immediately felt like an intruder when he saw Jack and Rowan in such an intimate embrace, her red hair mingling with his dark strands and dreadlocks. They smiled in their sleep; it was a relaxed smile that Santiago had never ever seen on Jack's face and which he'd long missed on Rowan's. Now he understood what Marris had already seen long before he could see it. They were a lovely couple- in their very own pirate ways though, but that still didn't alter the fact. He had to come to terms with it because he couldn't tear them apart as well as he couldn't burn the devil and hope to win…

A clicking sound interrupted his thoughts and only a second later a cocked and loaded pistol aimed at him.

"Ah, you know you can't shoot me, lad." He said matter-of-factly.

"Alf!" Jack yelped, definitely astonished to see the Spaniard. At once he lowered his pistol, breathing a sigh of relief that there was no attack, no mutiny- just Alf paying him a visit and bringing him… **_tea_**?

"Aye, it's me. And since you know now that it's me, would you please spare me this sight and cover yourself?"

Captain Jack Sparrow gazed down at himself, not knowing what should be wrong with the sight of a perfect body. Then he noticed that he was totally naked and quickly wrapped a sheet around his hips, grinning sheepishly at the Spaniard.

Meanwhile Rowan stirred in her sleep, instinctively reaching out one hand for a mug of tea but after she'd slurped some she pulled the sheets up over her head again.

"What d'ye want?" She grumbled sleepily and obviously not very pleased to see Santiago.

"Well, I have to talk to you, my dear girl."

"Go away. I'm tired."

Santiago didn't go away; he knew how she was like when waking up. Silent he watched her having another sip of tea and this time her eyes were open but unfriendly narrowed. He sighed. "You were quite in a rush yesterday- which I can understand of course- but there are still a few things we have to talk about. We need a plan to stop the evil things that are happening here."

"Ye want me to think of a plan? **Now**?" Rowan turned around and hid her head under the pillows, definitely not in the mood for evil magicians and even more evil goddesses.

"No, not now. I just want you to come to my house in- let's say in two hours." He looked at Jack. "Of course you're also welcome since you're already too deeply involved."

"Ah, are ye just saying that Captain Jack Sparrow has been so daft to take that damned chalice from Isla de Muerta, therefore he's gotta pay for it and fix the whole bloody mess?" Jack asked suspiciously.

"Well, that's a tempting thought indeed but unfortunately even the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow isn't a match for a magician like Ratbone." Santiago patted the pirate's shoulder comfortingly. "No, my lad. I've no intention to feed you to Ratbone since I've got other plans for you. See you in two hours."

"He really knows how to spoil my day." Rowan moaned after Santiago had left the cabin.

"Well, at least he didn't shout at me that I should keep my fingers off you. Also, I'm apparently welcome in his house again- dunno how that's gonna end but I'd say that's a good start." Jack sniffed at the tea, not knowing if he should really drink something that obviously lacked any rum. He decided against and slipped under the sheets again, nibbling at Rowan's neck. That was definitely a better taste. "After all, we've got two hours left." he purred in her ear.

"You're late."

"Aye." Rowan didn't try to talk her way out of it nor look guilty since she would have failed anyway. In fact, she didn't even give a damn if she was in time or not. What matters time when you make love? She had every right to get a bit of distraction, forgetting Nirrti, magic, Ratbone, the chalice… and Jack was very talented in distracting her. He made her feel wanted, attractive and desirable, maybe even loved though he'd probably never say that. He wasn't like Tyagraja who'd written poems or played a song on his sitar for her; Jack said all he couldn't speak out with his dark brown eyes.

Although she hadn't been in the mood to tell him about Nirrti- mayhap she'd never have the nerve to tell him- she had wondered why he didn't pester her with questions. Last night he'd been so eager to find out what's wrong with her, but today? Not a single word. First, she had thought he simply didn't care, that last night had been last night and today was just another day. But not Jack; Captain Jack Sparrow wasn't a man to forget things that easily, so the only reason he didn't ask was that he already **knew**. Realizing that had hit her like a bolt from the blue.

She still remembered how infuriated, hurt and betrayed she had felt when Jack told her that Marris was to blame. Well, of course he hadn't literally said that Marris _was to blame_ but that's what it had meant to her. Of all people, her best friend had stabbed her in the back. Then, after a while and a few comforting, calming kisses later, she had realized that she was wrong. Probably she'd never ever have the guts to put in words what had happened in Madras, therefore it would always be between her and Jack. Thus, Marris had done her a favour…

"Rowan, dear, are you still with us?" Santiago asked and made her wince since she hadn't listened to him at all.

"What?"

"I've said we have to destroy that statue of Nirrti before Ratbone can lay hands on it, do you agree?"

"Aye." _Nirrti, **Nirrti, NIRRTI **_… that damned name echoed in her ears with every pulse of her heart, getting louder each time like the sound of the drums on that crematorium ground.

"Listen luv," Jack reached her a glass of wine. "it seems that I'm the one who'd messed things up so I'm gonna be the one who's gotta fix them again. Savvy? So I'll sail to the Isla de Muerta, find that statue and destroy it. What d'ye say?"

"Well Jack, that's a fair offer and I wish it would be that easy but…"

"Bah!" Rowan snorted, interrupting Santiago. "How could you even consider that? Do you two really think I'm a frightened, easy to intimidate girl that needs to be pampered?"

"No, no, I haven't said that, luv." Jack hurried to hush her with a little kiss. "I just thought there might be no need to confront you with that nasty Nirrti Goddess again."

"I'm not scared of a statue- savvy, sweetheart?"

"Of course ye're not scared, ye only scare others… um, I mean ye gotta consider that others might be scared **about** ye because ye're such a beautiful, courageous woman- sometimes even a bit too courageous and quite rash when it comes down fighting…"

"What are ye trying to tell me now? That you worry about me or that you fear I'd do something stupid?"

Jack dramatically rolled his eyes before he gazed back at her, hands lifted in an attempt to underline his next words but then he decided better not to answer. Instead he put an arm around her shoulder, hugging her tightly. "Ah, I just love it when ye call me sweetheart."

She drank a sip of wine and glanced flirtatiously across the brim of her glass, fluttering her long, dark lashes at him. "Is it so?"

There was a drop of wine on her lips he just had to kiss away before she could lick it off and he did that thoroughly. Apparently both of them had forgotten- or chosen to ignore- that they were not alone in this room. It was then that Santiago audibly cleared his throat.

"Well, it's nice to see that you enjoy yourselves here but…" He thumped on the table, rebuking them strictly. "… we're **not** here to enjoy ourselves. Good Lord, you can paw one another as much as you like after we're done with more important things. So keep your fingers to yourselves now because that is a **very serious** matter. You're absolutely not aware with whom we have to deal, kids. Ratbone's an old and mighty magician; he's very dangerous…"

"Gosh, I still can't believe we're talking about the same little creep. Thought he's just a boot-licking, mentally retarded hunchback." Rowan giggled, though she knew it better. After all, she had seen him in Port Royal; she had seen the aura of gloomy power around him. Yet that was something she didn't want to think about now.

"Lemme guess- Ratbone's not even his real name, aye? I mean, a mighty, old and dangerous magician can't possibly be called **_Ratbone._** "

"Of course not. His real name's forgotten but as a magician he was once known by the name of Anirvan, the undying. That was before he'd eaten a human brain to gain even more power. Now he's not only a magician but also a Rakshasa…"

"What's a Raskas… Rashaksa… Rakshasa?" Jack interjected curiously.

"A Rakshasa is a Vedan night-demon that usually lingers around at crematorium grounds…"

"So to say a lovely companion to her Maliciousness, Nirrti." Rowan sounded rather cool but that was only pretended. _Nirrti, **Nirrti, NIRRTI**_… she dug her fingers into Jack's hand and felt at once more confident. Gently he brushed a wisp of hair from her face, suspecting very well what she was going through at the moment but still fascinated by that unusual color. Lost in thoughts he winded the strand round his index finger.

Instead of giving him a rap on the knuckles- like she would have done only a week ago- she just smiled now and snuggled up to him, playing with these two stupid braids that Jack calls a beard. Soon they'd start kissing again, Santiago interpreted the glances they exchanged, and he was slowly losing patience with them. Had he ever thought that they were a lovely couple? Well, maybe they were when asleep but awake they were simply unbearable.

"Stop that now!" The Spaniard barked. Though he didn't grudge them their happiness he was really pissed off with all that bill and coo because they seemed to forget more significant things. "Blast, that's really an important and very serious matter! Ratbone could tear out your hearts and have them raw for breakfast if he wants to, so stop behaving like infatuated kids."

"Thought he prefers brains." Rowan dared to say yet she fell silent when Santiago shot her an unnerving look. For a moment it appeared to her as if he would like to do some really nasty things himself.

Jack couldn't help but interrupt once more. "Yeah and why didn't he just bash in my head, steal my compass and eat my brain? Or eat my brain first before stealing the compass?"

Santiago rolled his eyes. "Brats! I wish I'd knew since I don't understand that either. Maybe he thought eating **your **brain would only make him sick. But, actually there's only one logical explanation- he's not in total control of his powers yet after Khadim had sent him into a magical sleep for centuries…"

"Who's Khadim?" Jack and Rowan asked in unison.

"You really drive me nuts! Why can't you just shut up and listen to what I have to say without interrupting me all the time? Do I have to put a silence spell upon you? I promise that I'll tell you all you need to know if you'd only let me finish." Santiago paused for an instant, awaiting a response but the two pirates only nodded, obviously not very keen to get spellbound. A wry smile curled up the corner of his mouth. "Well then, let me tell you a story of two friends that had started their career as magicians together until they reached a crossroad and each of them chose a different way; one decided to walk the path of light and the other that of darkness. Over the years, Khadim and Anirvan became bitter enemies. Anirvan lusted for power, and power he gained by worshipping Nirrti, the Vedan Goddess of Darkness and Destruction who had vanished from people's mind such a long time ago. In a vision she told him to eat a human brain in order to transform him into a Rakshasa, a mighty demon and her loyal companion; thus he did. Then, he created the Chalice of Doom… But Khadim thwarted his plans of setting Nirrti free. They fought a long, fierce battle and after all's said and done the Rakshasa Anirvan was put under a magical sleep somewhere high in the mountains of the Himalayas. It's not known why Khadim neither killed him nor destroyed the Chalice of Doom, maybe that simply wasn't within his powers. But it is known that he hid the chalice at a safe place where no one could ever find it, and it is also known that he used a magical compass to get there. Alas, soon after he had returned from his voyage Khadim got killed by some ordinary thugs and from that day on the compass was reported missing. So, what I really want to knows is how **you** came by that compass, Jack."

"Well, I didn't kill him- if that's what ye mean." Jack defended himself defiantly.

The Spaniard shook his head before hiding it in his hands, chuckling silently. Then he looked at the pirate again. "Oh boy, either you're really much too full of yourself or the daftest fool I've ever met. Khadim got killed about four-hundred years ago so it's very unlikely you had your dirty hands in that affair."

"Ah, that's good."

"So how did you come by that compass?"

"Well… um, it was after Singapore. A great place, by the way- just like heaven on earth for a man…"

"Please spare me these details. Singapore's just like Tortuga, a run-down disgrace swarming with worn-out faces and lacking any culture at all. Or do you really want to call the ill reputed brothels there places of cultural interest?" Of course that was only meant as a rhetorical question which any decent person wouldn't even think answering. Alas, Captain Jack Sparrow wasn't what one would call a decent man because he was in fact a pirate, and pirates usually got other priorities right. Therefore, ill reputed brothels definitely **were** places of interest to him and he could probably even see a cultural aspect in that; Santiago saw it in his eyes and impatiently cut him short before Jack could even open his mouth. "No, don't answer. Just tell me about the compass."

Jack shrugged. After exchanging glances with Rowan he cringed and came to the conclusion that Alf was right, maybe it was really better not to mention Singapore's famous brothels when she was around. Well, she had taken it with a kind of sophisticated humor, just raising a brow when he had indicated what he'd **almost** done last night and he didn't want to push it too far now. Quickly he leaned over to give her a brief kiss before Alf could attract his attention again.

"Well then, after Singapore I raided the Gulf of Bengal for a while and- without boasting- I could keep up easily with the local pirates. Soon my name was as infamous there as it was in the Caribbean so there were of course many envious persons and one of them must have betrayed me to the East India Company…"

"Jack, the legend of how the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow escaped from under the eyes of seven agents of the East India Company and nevertheless got marked with a pirate brand is already known; so there's no need to tell **that** story again." Santiago sighed, impatiently trying to suppress his continuously increasing impatience. "All **I** want to know is **how. you. got. that. compass?**"

"Ah that! Well, actually I bought it at a market in Bombay. An old Indian woman sold it to me, said it's a magical compass granting me fortune and fame…" Jack fell silent, grimacing at the thought of what he had gotten instead. Losing his Black Pearl to Barbossa wasn't what he'd call fortune and fame, and during these lonely ten years there had been many moments when he'd damned himself for buying a compass that doesn't point north.

"That's interesting." Santiago mused as he patted Jack's shoulder like praising a good boy. "So you've bought that compass of an old Indian Gypsy woman."

The pirate just made a mumbling sound that could be interpreted as approval and it was also quite obvious that he'd like to change the subject now- or better, leave the room. He didn't even want to know what Alf was thinking up in his 246-years-old-magician-mind at the moment since that meant trouble anyway. Apparently they were just about to set sails for Isla de Muerta and destroy that statue of Nirrti before a magician turned demon could lay hands on it. He was right.

"Jack, you'll lead us to Isla de Muerta. Prepare to sail before sunrise."

"Captain." Jack stressed, beginning to get sick and tired of being treated like a child.

"No, no. There's no need to call me captain." Santiago replied lost in thoughts. "I'll travel as a passenger aboard the Jewel Star."

Jack gasped audibly while Rowan started to giggle, which reminded him that there seemed to be no need of her accompanying them into unknown dangers, and he'd liked to keep her out of any danger if possible. Yet he didn't even dare to mention that because he already knew that she hated being treat like a child just as much as he did, so of course she would accompany them. _Remember never ever to fall in love again with such a stubborn, vivaciously, proud, beautifully insane woman who doesn't give a damn 'bout me worries for her_, he told himself, completely ignoring the simple fact that he'd fallen in love with her mainly because of that. Also, he'd almost forgotten that she could take care of herself on her own very well, so he cracked a smile now, remembering how she'd beaten up Commodore Norrington once before things went dreadfully wrong. If she was as good with her sword as her footwork was, he should stop worrying…

Some people might say that taking a hot bath on a warm Caribbean evening is absurd, a decadent waste of time and almost indecent. These people surely lacked any sense of sensuality, Rowan thought while she slid into the scented water, stretched out her limbs and sighed with pleasure. Or maybe it was the sensual feeling itself some people had problems with and seeing Santiago's bathroom might have confirmed their theory of heathen traditions because it was a luxurious dream of Arabian Nights. The tub- if you really want to call that little pool a tub- was in the middle of the room under a star-painted cupola carried by four marble columns. It was installed in a raised area to which three steps led covered in blue white tiles as the rest of the room was. Candles were lit everywhere and the damp air smelled of exotic spices like sandalwood. You could think whatever you want of Santiago but the man definitely knew about lifestyle. Of course he'd traveled far and he had adopted many attitudes of other cultures than the Christians where it was still a widespread belief that water- if hot or not- did harm the health. Therefore some narrow-minded members of high-society rather shrouded themselves in heavy clouds of perfumes before they'd ever dip a toe into a bathtub.

Rowan shuddered at that thought but then she stopped thinking and just enjoyed the hot, scented water caressing her body like a lover's touch, feeling completely relaxed from head to toe. For a short moment her mind was caught in a sweet void of sleepy laziness… until the door opened…

She sat up, wiping sweat and water off her face, prepared to shout some nasty words at the intruder. Then she saw that the intruder was Jack and relaxed again. "Ah, it's only you."

"Aye. Me." A smile curled up his lips when he saw her sunk neck-deep in warm water and though he tried hard not to stare at her too obviously, he failed.

"Why are ye staring at me? Never seen a woman taking a bath?"

Jack shrugged. He'd never spent that much time with a woman before and Tortugan whores weren't very famous for being clean, so he had in fact never seen a woman taking a bath. It was a lovely sight but also a very intimate moment that he almost felt he was disturbing here. "Um… d'ye want me to leave?"

"No. Come here." Rowan splashed around the water to make it unmistakably clear where she wanted him. He raised his brows in anticipation.

Of course he didn't have to be told twice when a lovely woman begged for his company, nevertheless Jack took his time. First he threw a cautious glance at the corridor outside, then he closed the door and locked it carefully. After all, he was in Alf's house and the last thing he had in mind was to infuriate a 246-year-old magician- or better said to infuriate him even more than he had already done.

"Just wanted to make sure we remain undisturbed, savvy?"

"And I almost thought you're scared of water- strictly speaking of taking a bath." Rowan teased him by splashing some water in his direction.

"Luv, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. I fear nothing." He boasted and started to undress. Then he sat down at the edge of the pool, smiling cheekily at her while he dipped his fingers into the scented waters and sniffed at them before he nodded his head in approval. "That'll do. It wouldn't be good for my reputation if I smelled like a bouquet of flowers afterwards, aye?"

"You **are** scared of taking a bath." Rowan claimed and grabbed his arm; now she was smiling cheekily.

"**I'm not**!" Jack yelled as he fell into the pool with a big splash, a flood of water slopping over its sides. Snorting he shook his soaking wet hair and the pearls in his dreadlocks jingled. He tried to get hold of Rowan. "Blast! If ye'd told me right from the beginning how keen youare to take a bath with me instead of telling me that I needed one it would have saved us a lot of trouble."

She needed a moment to figure out what he was about but then her eyes narrowed. "I definitely wasn't keen to take a bath with ye when we met for the first time! Damned, I really hate it when ye're so…"

"Irresistible." He cut her short, circling dripping arms around her neck. "Irresistible is the word you're looking for."

Well, she'd had other words in mind yet he had the better arguments, and his breath-taking kiss was a damned good argument. More water slopped over the edge of the tub as she fit herself upon him with parted legs.

"Luv, are ye trying to seduce an innocent pirate?"

Rowan laughed. "I guess **insatiable** is the word you're looking for." She could clearly feel his desire for her, begging for entry which she willingly granted inch by delicious inch. Yet she still had to tease him a bit. "Besides, we could stop it if the innocent pirate in you feels abused."

"NO!" Jack grabbed her hard, filling her to the core and as an answer she locked her legs behind his back. They both chuckled as another wave of water splashed over the edges of the pool. "But we're gonna flood Alf's house if we continue." he murmured.

"So what?"

Later Jack held Rowan idly in his arms and he enjoyed that moment of intimacy as much as the relaxing feeling of warm water caressing his skin. Against the usual opinion that pirates in general are scared of water he didn't mind taking a bath- especially not if that ended in a sensual affair with a very unusual woman- and he didn't even fear for his reputation if he was clean. Yet one of the reasons for not taking a bath more often was definitely the lack of opportunities on high seas where fresh water was rare, secondly the lack of such a lovely company like Rowan Scarlett, but most of all it was for his own safety. After all, a naked pirate in a bathtub was actually very vulnerable, specially if said pirate was the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow who'd lived though a mutiny and was wanted dead or alive by the Royal Navy.

It was Rowan who ended their comfortable togetherness by reminding him of the uncomfortable world outside this bathtub; a world crowded with wicked magicians and evil goddesses.

"We should see to it that our ships are ready to set sail at sunrise..."

"Not now. The Pearl's always ready to set sail." Jack moaned and tried to silence her with a kiss. But since they'd been lying in waters mixed with scented oils she could easily slip from his hands, looking at him seriously.

"And we have to gather our crews from the various taverns."

He sighed. "Or we could just take whoever's available to man the Pearl. Besides, ye know that ye don't have to come to the Isla de Muerta with us, luv. Alf and I can cope on our own."

"Ha! Ye'd rather kill each other!" Rowan snorted. If the bath hadn't soothed her mind as well as her body she would be much more annoyed now, guessing right that this was just another attempt to tread her like… like a woman. She bit back any harsh remarks that were on the tip of her tongue and decided to be patient with him. "Jack, I know that you only want to keep me out of danger and I really appreciate that, but I didn't become a pirate captain just because of my look. I learned all I needed to know starting from the bottom, and I always had to be better than any man to prove myself, to gain their respect. It was a hard time. Though in the end it was my crew's decision that **I **should be their captain because they've started to trust me- even if I'm **just** a woman. I'm sick and tired of struggling with prejudices all the time so please give me a break and try to trust me as well. Besides, neither you nor Santiago are able to find that statue of Nirrti since I'm the only one who ever saw her."

"At the crematorium ground in Madras…" Jack whispered knowingly, remembering what Marris had told him and wondering what might have happened to Tyagraja since Marris had failed to mention that.

"Aye, at the crematorium ground in Madras." She got out of the tub and wrapped herself in a large towel, shivering a bit at that thought. It was obvious that she didn't want to talk about that anymore. She gave him a wry smile before leaving the room. "See you at the docks."

Jack collected his clothes, wishing he hadn't dropped them that close to the pool since they were wet as the rest of the bathroom was. He poured the water out of his boots and crept out of the room barefoot, hoping that he didn't meet anyone of Alf's household when he stumbled into Alf himself. The Spaniard stared at him from head to toe, an ironic smile on his lips.

"Good Lord, Jack! You look almost clean! Could it be that you've actually taken a bath? And forgotten to take off your clothes?"

Jack smirked but didn't give any answer. Instead he hurried to get away from Alf before the Spaniard could see the bathroom and figure out what had happened there.


	15. 14 Isla de Muerta

Hello dear readers, please keep on reviewing.

Cayenne Pepper Powder: You want more Rowan and Jack? You can havemore Rowan and Jack. Hope you like thischapter.

Ellennar: You want that bathroom? You can have that bathroom- but only with Alf as asseccory. I still need Jack.

**14. Isla de Muerta**

Santiago scratched his chin thoughtfully while his eyes followed Jack who seemed to be a bit too eager to get away from him. Though that was understandable to a certain degree- after all, there had been many nasty words between them recently- he was still wondering about his strange behaviour. Usually Captain Jack Sparrow wasn't lost at a loss for a stupid remark and usually he didn't creep through corridors when he could swagger and sway. Also, he was always ready for mischief, so what nonsense had he done that he was trying to keep from him?

Oh, he couldn't conceal it for long, Santiago thought, following the trail of wet footprints back to the bathroom and opening the door. The room looked flooded. There were puddles of water all around the platform with the pool, reflecting the light of the candles that were still lit. The air was damp and smelled of oriental scents, sandalwood, and… lust. Then he understood why two towels lay on the floor. He could have banged his head to the wall because he'd been so dense. Of course Jack hadn't taken a bath just because he was a filthy pirate who'd definitely needed one- no, he'd seen Rowan in that bathtub and taken advantage of the situation; he'd seduced her. _He'd lived up his unchaste, dirty fantasies in my house, under my roof! If I ever get hands on that wanton pirate, that old lecher, I'd… I would make him **lick** the bath clean and not bother my servants with cleaning up a place of obscene debauchery._

He chuckled at that thought but then he felt guilty because of it. What a grumpy old man he'd become, still bearing a grudge for things that had been said or done a long time ago, still unwilling to forgive him like Rowan had done. She should be the one who bore the grudge for whatever happened to her because of Jack's follies but apparently she'd decided otherwise and had fallen in love with that rake instead. Also it wasn't fair to blame Jack alone for whatever had transpired between the two of them here since Rowan was definitely all but an innocent virgin. He suddenly remembered the day he wanted to explain the facts of life to her and had realized that she already knew that babies weren't found under the gooseberry bush, so all she wanted to know was how to avoid getting them and chastity was surely not the word she was thinking of. A shiver ran down his spine; she surely hadn't thought of rape and miscarriage either, and he hadn't been there to protect her, he'd failed in taking care of her. All those years he'd blamed Jack for his very own failure, wounded in his pride because Jack hadn't wanted his help. Not after he'd helpfully arranged his recruitment with Morgan…

Santiago shuddered again, feeling colder than he should on a warm Caribbean night, in a room with so many candles lit. He pondered about the transitoriness of time for those who are mortal and that he really shouldn't begrudge Jack and Rowan their fun; they had so little time to enjoy life and life hadn't been too kind to either of them.

Something made him turn around. He felt watched and though there was no one to see the hair at the nape of his neck stood on end. Another shiver ran down his spine as he sensed a weird, almost eerie aura.

Suddenly there was a sound. It was no audible sound, rather something like a disturbing rumble in the balance of the powers of the universe that only he could hear. At once he knew that the cold he'd felt was of no natural origin. It had begun. The evil force had risen.

The Spaniard left the bathroom through its backdoor and stepped in his garden behind the house from which he had a splendid view across Cayona town and the moonlit sea. But he didn't care for the beauty of that nightly scenery, for golden and silvern lights that sparkled beneath him like diamonds in the velvet darkness of the night. His eyes were focussed on a distant point. He looked over the sea, looked over far more miles than any mortal man could do and despite all the hindrances that would have blocked his view, he could see straight into a very special room in Port Royal. There, a golden chalice was seething with whirling clouds of impenetrable blackness and those clouds were even getting darker.

_We can't wait any longer. We have to go and stop it now by finding and destroying that statue of Nirrti before Anirvan gains all his power back. He's already stronger than I thought he'd be and changing his form was just a simple trick, playing with illusions. But how strong is he really? Will I be able to stop him? Am I strong enough to finish what Khadim had failed to do? Well, I won't figure it out if I just relax and take it easy. No, I have to proceed, react to that change of balance…_

With that in mind he hurried to pack up a few things before he scribbled down a short note for Will and Elisabeth. He told them a bit of a white lie about some unexpected business that cannot be put off, and was quite glad that they apparently weren't in at the moment. It would have been much harder to tell them straight. Maybe they'd even feel obliged to join the pirates and that was something Santiago wanted to avoid since they'd be much safer here. But were they really safe here? He remembered that eerie aura of doom he'd felt before and wondered where Will and Elisabeth were at all. Should he call them? Yet if he'd called them he would have to explain things they didn't need to know, therefore he called Mai-Lin instead, asking her. She calmed his sudden worries by telling him that his dear guests were just out for a walk in the hills like they usually did after dinner. So there was no reason to worry.

The first thing Captain Rowan Scarlett saw when boarding her Jewel Star was Marris and Anamaria sitting together, chatting. Well, they didn't sit together closely, since each of them sat on the rail of their own ship, yet they seemed to be quite familiar with each other by now. She heard Anamaria laugh about a joke Marris had cracked and felt immediately pissed off. Slightly annoyed she called her first mate, telling him that they were about to set sail at sunrise before informing the rest of the crew. Then she asked him about their supplies of food, water and ammunition, but she didn't ask what was going on between him and Anamaria though that was somehow of quite a bit more interest to her. Nevertheless she didn't mention what was bothering her.

In the galley she had that same old argument with Rashid as always. In his opinion he couldn't cook any decent meals with the inadequate supplies they had aboard and then he foamed again that the Caribbean was an awful place anyway due to the lack of spices. Oddly enough, when he got excited about his favourite topic he could speak English properly and fluently instead of mixing it with a smattering of Spanish like he usually did. Yet that didn't cheer up Rowan, quite the reverse. She felt tempted to roast him and feed him to the crew in order to prove him wrong. When would he get the simple fact that he wasn't cooking at a Maharaja's court anymore but on a pirate ship and pirates in general didn't need nor expect exquisite menus if they sailed straight towards a deadly adventure- and it would probably be just like that. She didn't fool herself regarding the danger of this adventure they're heading to since she knew that simply finding and destroying the statue of Nirrti sounded much too easy. Therefore, she wanted to be as prepared as possible for all the things that could happen, might it be a naval battle, a hasty retreat, whatever…

"Hey, we both know Rashid can be a pain in the arse when it comes to what he calls culinary arts but let's face it. Actually you're more mad at me than at him, aye?" Marris grabbed her arm and forced her to face him. "Now, what's wrong?"

"I'm just sick and tired of the same discussion with Rashid." Rowan snorted, ignoring his allusion that she might be mad at him because she definitely wasn't. Well, maybe a little bit... she looked at him out of the corner of her eyes and saw him smile cheekily, smiling like only Marris could. It was also a knowing smile as he knew her better than anyone else ever since the day they first met; two orphans stealing fruits at Tortuga's market place. They'd shared their loot at the docks then as well as they'd shared their hopes and dreams ever since. So it really wasn't hard for him to figure her out. "Damned! I really can't believe that ye're flirting with a woman who'd tried to stab me!"

"Ah, that. Well then wouldn't it be great if she falls in love with me instead of still chasing the stupid idea of being in love with Captain Jack Sparrow?"

"Now, that sounds like a typical Marris solution to put things right." she replied sarcastically and shook her head. "Yet I'm not sure if I really wanna ask that sacrifice of ye."

Marris smirked. "Maybe it's not…" All of a sudden he winced and writhed as if someone had punched him in the stomach, only that there wasn't anyone but Rowan and she wasn't to blame for once.

"What's wrong?" Her voice sounded worried when she gazed at him and saw him nervously looking in all directions.

"I dunno…" Again he made sure that there was really nothing unusual to see, then he shrugged and shook his head. "Haven't ye noticed anything?"

"Marris, are ye sure ye're alright?"

"Well I… I feel a bit dizzy but..." Marris paused and thought about it once more yet he still came to the conclusion that it hadn't just been his imagination running wild. He tried to explain it to her. "You know, it wasn't really like noticing something you can see or hear. It was actually more like **sensing** that there's something- invisible, inaudible and even in quite a distance- but it was there like some sort of weird, eerie aura that hit me outta the blue. It almost made my hair stand on end."

"Ah, I see." Rowan looked at his tousled, backcombed mass of white-blonde hair and thought that he always looked like his hair stood on end. But the expression on his face was much too serious to crack a joke now, actually she'd never seen him that serious before. He had sank to the floor and buried his head in his hands as if suffering a really bad headache. She kneeled down beside him, placing a supporting hand on his shoulder. "Hey, are ye sure ye're alright?" she asked again, more concerned this time. "Maybe ye should talk to Santiago- after all, he's the one in charge with supernatural affairs. D'ye want me to fetch him?"

Marris grimaced almost painfully, hugging her. "No thanks. Definitely he's the one who'd landed myself in it and besides, he's gonna be here in a few minutes anyway."

"What're ye talking 'bout?"

"I don't understand it either. Damned, I need a drink."

"Well, and ye could be damned happy, mate, that I'm the one who's got a drink to offer even though I'm not sure whether I like what I see here."

Rowan looked up to see Jack and rolled her eyes- she just hated it when he was so possessive and the last she needed was a lover who's jealous at Marris of all people. Maybe he saw that too because he joined them on the planks now, handing around the bottle he carried. After they all had a good gulp of rum he inquired what was going on and she tried to explain it to him as good as possible.

"Wait a second." Jack interrupted, cautiously eying Rowan. Somehow he felt mucked around and he didn't like that at all. "Are ye seriously trying to tell me that yer first mate got attacked by something invisible and inaudible in the far distance?"

"Rowan's telling the truth, Jack." Marris said mediating, and though he was tempted to remind the infamous pirate captain that he'd found him in a much more embarrassing situation than just hugging a close friend yesterday, he didn't speak it out loud. Nevertheless, Jack was clever enough to understand him even without words since he lowered his head, biting his lips.

"Aye, never doubted that. It just sounds so weird…"

"You mean **weird** in the sense of pirates turn to skeletons in the moonlight because of an Aztec's curse, or rather **weird** in a way that Chalice of Doom is, enslaving souls in order to sacrifice them to an evil Indian Goddess? Of course you can also call Santiago **weird**, a once fanatic Christian who's become a mighty magician during his 246 years of life." Rowan replied sarcastically but Jack just started to chuckle and bend over to kiss her.

"Ye're absolutely right, luv. Seems there's nothing normal nowadays." Jack ran his fingers through her hair; even in the light of the ship lanterns it shimmered like a glass of red wine held to the light. He snuggled up closer to her, after all these days still fascinated by her and that was something he'd also call weird.

"Did you just say Santiago's a mighty magician or am I hearing voices again?" Marris asked Rowan.

"Oh, haven't I told you yet?"

"Well, we hadn't much time to talk recently since you were… um, busy with Jack. Probably you just forgot to mention that minor detail."

"Sorry, Marris. It was never my intention to conceal it from you." Rowan let go of her lover and hugged her best friend instead. Meanwhile Jack gulped down some rum to celebrate a formerly unknown feeling called jealousy, and though he knew that there was no reason to be jealous at Marris nor at any other man- after all, he was Captain Jack Sparrow- he just couldn't stand the thought of anyone else touching her.

"Funny, why doesn't that surprise me? There'd always been something odd about our good old Santiago. All the strange things he used to do- now they make sense… I think I'm beginning to understand…." Marris mused, tearing at his hair until it really stuck from his head in all directions. "… guess it's because of the reindeer bones…"

Rowan stared at him confused and frowned, so did Jack. But he coughed and spit a good mouthful of rum on the planks.

"Reindeer bones?"

"Aye, reindeer bones…" Marris looked from Rowan to Jack and back. "Remember that I told Santiago about my ancestors once?"

She shuddered. He'd been born in a county which was even colder than England, and she couldn't think of any colder and more unfriendly place than London in winter.

"Well, my ancestors stem from somewhere high up in the north, close to the polar circle, and they breed reindeers for their living." the blonde tousle-head explained Jack, who nodded knowingly, pretending to know all about reindeers though he'd never seen one, "Allegedly there was a shaman in my mother's family, generations ago, and allegedly he'd been able to read the future from said reindeer bones thrown in trance while beating his spirit drums." He shrugged. "I thought that's a funny story and that's why I told it to Santiago, but I never believed in it. Bloody reindeer. Never ever seen one in my life yet the bloody Spaniard looked at me as if… if…"

"… as if he's found a perfect magician-apprentice?" Jack interjected helpfully. "Ah, that's typically Alf- always looking for innocent orphans he can teach all his knowledge."

Marris continued. "Bullshit, if ye ask me. I'm definitely not skilled with any spiritual hocus-pocus…"

Rowan frowned. If he wasn't, what was it then that had happened to him just a few minutes ago? To her it was quite obvious that her best friend was indeed susceptible for what he called spiritual hocus-pocus and besides, he'd always had a knack for doing the right things at the right time. Why did he do almost everything to see her and Jack happy together, even flirting with her best foe to distract her, if it wasn't for an unknown reason only he had in mind. Well, of course it definitely was because he really wanted her to be happy and also because he had an incomprehensible crush for Anamaria, but that surely wasn't the whole truth…

"… and I even wouldn't have told him about my ancestors if I'd known about him then what I know now, savvy? Bloody reindeer!"

"Ah, and what do you think to know about me, lad?"

Three heads raised to stare at Miguel Alfonso de Santiago who'd apparently emerged out of nowhere, but obviously had planted himself in front of them at least long enough to hear Marris' last statement.

"If you'd know me as well as you think, why haven't you spread the message I sent you? Didn't I make it clear enough that I wanted both ships ready to sail right **now**?" The Spaniard look around dissatisfied and sighed. "But you just loll around. Well, maybe I've just overrated your talents. Anyway…"

"Hey, what have you done to Marris?" Rowan jumped up to her feet, facing Santiago straight. Let others be moral cowards because he'd recently become known as a magician but she wasn't scared of him, therefore she didn't see why she shouldn't treat him like she usually did.

"I didn't harm him, if that's what you mean, my dear. I've only tried to send him a telepathic message in order to save time, because we really have to sail right now. I can't explain it to you but there is something happening that throws the balance of the universe in a heavy turmoil. So please, tell your crew to set sails. We have to hurry."

Rowan looked frustrated at Jack who also wasn't very pleased with the change of plans; they'd hoped to spend this night together before sailing on different ships to an island that cannot be found. "How long does it take to get to the Isla de Muerta?"

Jack shrugged, actually he'd never cared about the time it took him to get there- until now. "Probably a day and a half, plus or minus a few hours…"

Santiago couldn't bear the longing looks they exchanged any longer so he showed some sympathy for the two of them. "Well then, I'm only a passenger so I'm off to my cabin now. Take your time to say goodbye but please remember that we're really in a hurry to get to the Isla de Muerta."

Rowan grabbed Jack and kissed him thoroughly, then she made her way to the helm, barking orders to her crew. She just hated long goodbyes- especially when the crew's watching her curiously.

"To work, ye scabby dogs!"

Captain Jack Sparrow was in a really bad, gloomy mood. He stood at the helm, navigating the Black Pearl through the starless and quite unfriendly night since the weather had changed about an hour after they've left the channel of Tortuga and reached the open sea. Now, it was raining. It wasn't one of those typical Caribbean showers that usually ended as abruptly as it had begun and purified the air from the day's heat, but it was a constant drizzle. Although Jack could hardly feel a drop on his skin, his clothes stuck damply to his body as the air was just extremely humid.

Jack let off steam by barking orders at his crew, showing off about being the captain, although they surely weren't to blame for his mood; as usual they did a good job. And usually he was a fair captain if only… Damned, a woman should stand by her man and keep his bed warm, she should be loving and adoring, assuring him her affection. She shouldn't command her own ship when she could be with him instead, and most of all, she shouldn't run away from him all the time. She shouldn't leave him behind and slam the door in his face whenever she felt like, leaving him longing for her nevertheless; just like a daft fool in love. But he was Captain Jack Sparrow, he could have any other woman if he wanted to… and exactly that was the problem. To hell with her! For a moment he closed his eyes and remembered…

…_she arched her spine and threw back her head, the most sensual expression on her face. Her hair swirled around her shoulders like cascades of red wine, flowing down to her firm breasts; breasts that were made to fit perfectly into my hands. My head bent to lick a sparkling drop of water off her nipple as she claws her fingers into my back, causing such delicious pain. My hands grabbed her hips, thrusting deeper, harder, faster until she groaned my name like a prayer and sent me straight to heaven. A final flood of water splashed over the edges of the pool… Then she cuddled in my arms and nuzzled my chest like a sweet little kitten but never forgetting the hellcat she sometimes could be. It felt so right to hold her, running my fingers through her hair and wondering why she could make me feel so complete, so completely at peace with myself each time we're together… _

Jack sighed. No, he didn't want any other woman than Rowan. He'd tried many and none of them could give him what Rowan gave him; they'd just satisfied his needs. They didn't touch him the way she did, they didn't grant him that feeling of complete and utter bliss that only she could give him. Most women were obsequious, obedient and pale to the point of lacking any colour, not having any opinions of their own. Though that was how the majority preferred women- pretty to look at but otherwise unobtrusive- they were no real match, no challenge for him. But Rowan… his lips curled to a smile when he thought about her.

…_well, she's dressed in colours even if she wears nothing at all. She's got her own will, so damned stubborn sometimes but the next moment she cuddles affectionately in my arms, touching me gently…_ _her hands are rough though, calloused from hard work on a pirate ship and handling a sword. Unlike other women, she lacks any shyness in touching a man's body- some may call this shameless or even wantonly but that's alright to me. Who am I not to be pleased with a wantonly woman who enjoys touching me, exploring my body… She's skilled like a whore but not with a whore's ambition; she doesn't hear the coins in my pockets jingle when we make love. She's just very sensual… she loves to feel, to touch, to taste, to nibble and bite, to kiss and lick…_

He remembered that night Rowan had invited him for dinner; her cabin had smelled of exotic spices and sandalwood incense, and she had looked like an Indian princess in her green sari.

_So breathtaking beautiful and seductive, and seduction was indeed what she had in mind… ah, her fingertips dances delicately across my chest, teasing me, as her hot mouth travels down my neck and further down, kissing these old scars, leaving a moist trail on my skin. Her tongue touches my nipple and the desire to throw her on the back and screw her is just overwhelming…She knows what I'm up to and props herself on her elbows, saying, 'it's my turn now, savvy?', before continuing to drive me wild, feverish with lust, groaning for more. She knows how to please a man and seems to like it; every touch, every kiss is just for the joy of touching and kissing me, so pure and yet so wonderfully wantonly…my body trembles uncontrollably as the blood rushes to my head, throbbing heavily, causing red golden flashes to twinkle behind my closed eyelids. A shiver runs down my spine…_

Jack winced startled when he felt a big, clumsy hand clutching his shoulder.

"Captain Sparrow! Jack, ye're alright?" Mr. Gibbs asked a bit worried.

Jack lifted his head, suddenly aware that he had been dreamily leaning against the Pearl's wheel for- how long already?- completely lost in erotic thoughts.

"Please forgive me for interfering, Captain, I surely won't doubt yer competence, but it seems to me that we're just heading towards a nasty shallows and I…"

Jack stared at the shallows ahead and then at his compass. The Pearl had deviated from her course quite a lot without him even noticing. Immediately he corrected course and barked some orders at his crew, wondering for how long he hadn't looked at his compass anymore. Then he glanced at Gibbs. "Just wanted to check yer attention, savvy?"

"Aye, Captain." The elder man replied, but he kept eying his captain cautiously, hoping that he wasn't in one of his odd moods again like that night he thought to be cursed; he definitely didn't want to relive **that. **He turned away a little in order to take a surreptitious quick swig from his flask.

"Joshamee Gibbs, drinkin' on yer own just gets ye drunk, so ye should at least offer yer Captain a swig too." Jack slurred and pinched the flask from his first mate's hands, gulping down almost half of its content. The golden liquid tickled his throat and warmed his stomach, soothing a desire that would remain unfulfilled tonight. He looked at astern. Damned, a woman should really stay with her man and not be aboard a ship that followed in the Pearl's wake like a shadow, barely visible but for the white foam spraying at her bow. Sighing he addressed Mr. Gibbs again, holding up the small flask. "Why don't ye get me a decent bottle of rum 'n help me finishing it, what d'ye say?"

Gibbs said 'aye' and hurried to comply with his captain's wishes, so a few minutes later Jack held the wished for bottle in his hands, uncorking it with his teeth. Yet he only took a mouthful of rum before he passed the bottle to his mate, since he had rather looked for company than for booze. Actually, anything or anyone would be welcome if only he could distract his thoughts from the woman he couldn't have right now **and** from the destination of their voyage. Though he would never admit it to himself- let alone to others- but returning to the damned Isla de Muerta was something that could even scare stiff the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow. Too many nights he'd woken up, soaked with cold sweat because of yet another nightmare haunted by Barbossa. Too many nights he'd been tossing and turning in his sleep, reliving the mutiny, being marooned on that godforsaken island again and again. An icy cold shiver ran down his spine when he thought about what they might find in the caves of Isla de Muerta and what possibly not- and he didn't refer to that statue of Nirrti now. Although he'd seen Barbossa die, killed by that single shot he'd carried in his pistol for ten years, he really wasn't sure if Barbossa's corpse would still lie where he'd left him, at the feet of that huge chest filled with Aztec Gold.

The Isla de Muerta was an island made of steep shores and deeply fissured rocks on which scarcely anything grew except for a few greenish alga right above the water-line. In the centre of that inhospitable island the crater of a volcano rose, emitting grey clouds of smoke, and these clouds hovered across the sea like fog. All sounds were dulled, absorbed to distant echoes, and the wind had died down.

The planks creaked, the sails flapped idly against the masts and occasionally a rattle in the rigging could be heard. No one aboard the Jewel Star spoke a word as the ship approached the island, all pirates were stunned about the eerie and yet somehow unrealistic atmosphere that welcomed them here.

Rowan was the first to break the silence. "Lovely. Looks like we've reached the forecourt of hell, aye?"

Her crew started murmuring, some crossed themselves while others surreptitiously made the sign against evil. Rowan didn't know which of them was wiser. Most probably the few ones who pretended to be neither impressed nor influenced by the eerie atmosphere and the slightly sulphurous smell in the air, the ones that still managed to keep a sharp eye on more important things.

"Watch out, Captain! Wrecks ahead!" McCoy, an unusually dark-haired Irishman, warned her, pointing ahead to what seemed to be a graveyard of scuttled ships.

Rowan left the helm to Marris and hurried at McCoy's side to have a closer look. It was amazing. Though clouds of smoke covered the sky the sea was nevertheless so clear that she could glance deep down to the ground, seeing many wrecks of what once had been majestic ships. Now they rotted at the bottom of the sea, only populated by swarms of sharks. What had happened to them? From a very far distance she could hear Cotton's parrot caw: 'Dead men tell no tales.'

Then she saw the Black Pearl drop anchor right in front of an opening in the rocks that looked like the jaws of hell to her. She gave orders to get the longboat ready.

"Marris, Santiago and I are going ashore now." she informed McCoy and told him to double the watch while she was away. Somehow she had a feeling something would happen sooner or later. Neither Norrington nor that Rakshasa/Anirvan/Ratbone guy would just let them walk into the caves of Isla de Muerta and destroy the statue of Nirrti.

Meanwhile Jack worried whether it was safe to leave his Black Pearl in the hands of his crew while he was away. After all, they had deserted him once before at exactly the same place and fact was, that he still owed Anamaria a ship. Fact was also that they hadn't looted any ships for more than a week now, so his crew could get impatient, and impatience often leads to discontentment… there are always many reasons for a mutiny. One reason surely was, that he was about to go into a legendary treasure cave only to destroy a magical statue of an Indian Goddess, therefore he would return to them empty-handed, although everybody aboard knew that a fortune was hidden there. Yet none of them could possibly imagine how many treasures had been actually hoarded in the caves of Isla de Muerta- it was probably enough to buy the whole Caribbean twice and- Jack chuckled secretly at that thought- transform it into a pirate nation…

"What are you waiting for Captain Sparrow? We don't have all day." Santiago shouted mockingly from the longboat that had just docked at the Pearl, interrupting Jack's daydreams of a pirate nation where he'd be king and Rowan his queen. A damned sexy queen by the way. Today she was dressed in tight black clothes that hardly disguised her slender, muscular but yet feminine form, and though he loved to see her hair flowing uncombed and unruly across her shoulders, these two plaits looked somehow irresistible to tug on… But Captain Jack Sparrow had never been a man who could resist and so he almost scuttled the boat in his enthusiasm to pull her closer by her plaits and kiss her.

"Damned! Are you trying to drown us?" Santiago cursed after the heavy swaying had stopped and the boat became more balanced again. He tossed the oars to Jack. "Row! You seem to have too much surplus energy so I give you the fantastic chance to let off steam by making yourself useful."

"Yer too kind mate." Jack snarled, thinking of a much better way to let off steam. He looked at Rowan and when their eyes met, he knew that she just had the same idea. Unfortunately Alf wouldn't be too pleased with what they had in mind, so he better concentrated on rowing. It would have been much easier though if Rowan hadn't kept staring at him, admiring his strength, perhaps even imagining the way his muscles flexed under his shirt- or simply laughing up her sleeve that he had to do the hard work and not her.

A little while later torches were lit as the boat entered the caves of Isla de Muerta. Although they hadn't spoken much before, they all went quiet now, speechlessly glaring up and down the walls of a subterranean channel. That passage had not been built by human hands but resulted from the forces of nature; the walls were rough, eaten by the ravages of time and deeply fissured.

Soon the torchlight got reflected by a golden sparkle and that didn't come from Jack's golden teeth, though he grinned broadly about his companions' flabbergasted faces when they passed a skeleton sitting on a ledge next to the channel, wearing a crown on its skull. The golden sparkle increased even more the deeper they advanced into the caves. There were golden coins covering the bottom of the channel now and more skeletons of unknown men resting forever on piles of treasures. Their names had been forgotten and their fame had faded in the course of years, decades, centuries, but their fortune remained.

Yet all treasures they passed on their way were nothing in comparison to what the main cave had to offer. Rowan, Marris and even Santiago had to blink their eyes in disbelief since none of them had ever seen so many treasures hoarded at one place. It was incredible, indescribable- nevertheless it was real; they weren't dreaming.

The cave was huge and had several side caves, each of them stuffed with silver and gold, coins and jewellery, crowns and diadems, chalices and chandeliers. Some of it was rising over the edges of big chests, some was just piled carelessly in a corner. There were also paintings in rich carved golden frames, portraying a king long dead or a hero forgotten by now, precious carpets, broad armchairs with covers of the finest damask, tables made of marble and gold, and even more coins, necklaces, rings, strings of pearls, bangles. And scattered between this overwhelming mess of treasures jutted a statues here and there, representing all different kinds of deities, whether it was Buddha, the Virgin Mary, a popular Hindu God, or someone unknown.

Rowan sighed. It would probably take days to search the caves for that statue of Nirrti since there was just too much of everything here. It wasn't very helpful either that Jack tried to flatter her by holding a precious necklace made of gold and sapphires to her neck, looking critically at her before throwing it carelessly away, mumbling something about the wrong colour. Then he rummaged through another pile of treasures as if he wanted to find something more suitable for her by all means. Oddly enough, she thought he was rather trying to distract her from whatever… when her eye fell on a huge stone chest atop of a _hill_ of piled gold in the middle of the cave, surrounded by a subterranean pond. A few stone slabs led to that _island_ and she headed towards it with curiosity, knowing that this chest contained the infamous Aztec Gold.

"Don't go there!" Jack grabbed her arm in order to prevent her from stepping closer to that damned chest, but she stubbornly tear herself away of his grip.

"Stop that! D'ye really think I'm keen on cursed Aztec Gold?" she snapped, since she was rather keen on the truth behind a story told to her in the 'Prancing dragon' once. Did he want to hold her back now because he'd lied to her then? She had to find out.

Rowan hurried along the stone slabs with Jack hard on her heels, brandishing his arms.

"You don't really wanna go there." he warned her.

"What are they up to now?" Santiago wondered and looked at Marris for an answer, but the blonde pirate just frowned. "Do we have to worry?"

"Mayhap…"

At that moment Rowan stumbled over something and immediately froze in her tracks, staring with a disturbing mixture of shock and hate at Barbossa's corpse. There wasn't much left of him but pale bones and his dirty scruffy clothes, and yet she knew that it was definitely him; no doubt about that. No one else could raise such a hatred, such a wild fury inside her.

"Ah, I just knew ye don't wanna see it… him." Jack said a bit helpless, misinterpreting the tear that ran down her cheek. He wanted to give her a comforting hug when he saw that expression on her face, and then he heard the crashing sound of splintering bones.

"No, Jack." She lifted her boot and glanced at grinded bones that used to be a hand, a weird smile playing about her lips. "I had to see it with my own eyes. I only wish he'd had to suffer more… at least I would have made him really suffer."

Jack had to swallow hard. Though he knew that she wasn't cruel by nature it was quite disconcerting to hear her say the really awful things she would have done to Barbossa. He hadn't known that such a pretty head could think up such sick thoughts, but on the other hand he couldn't blame her for that- not after all Barbossa had done to her.

Rowan stood shifting her weight from foot to foot and again bones crashed.

"Christ! Stop that! That's desecration of a corpse!" Santiago gasped utterly shocked, suddenly remembering his Christian background again rather shocked. But Rowan neither came to her senses nor did she show any sign of piety.

"Ha! Ye can't **desecrate **a man like Barbossa, no matter how hard ye try." She snarled, whirling around on one foot and sending Barbossa's skull into the dark waters of the subterranean pond with a single, well-placed kick.

There was a loud splash, followed by a moment of embarrassed silence. Everybody stared at the circling whirl in the water where the skull had sunk, thus they avoided staring at Rowan in consternation. While Santiago let show his horror about her sacrilege, Jack was completely taken aback because of her extreme behaviour- though he should have known by now that kicking Barbossa's skull into the pond was nothing in comparison to what she would have done to him if he was still alive- and Marris… Well, Marris proved his knack for doing the right things at the right moment once again; he just walked up to Rowan and wrapped an arm around her trembling shoulders, hugging her tightly.

"D'ye feel better now?"

Rowan nodded and returned his hug for an instant, ignoring Jack's jealous glances. _Damned, I'm not your possession,_ she thought before she cleared her throat and reminded everyone of the agenda. "Hey mates, don't ye think we should start looking for that bloody statue of Nirrti now?"

They all agreed, somehow relieved that that nasty incident was apparently over so that they could concentrate on what they came here for in the first place. Not Barbossa mattered but the statue of Nirrti. Yet they hadn't expected the search to be like looking for a needle in a haystack- except for Jack maybe, who'd been here before- because there were so many statues of Gods, Goddesses or Saints buried under piles of gold, silver and jewellery. Therefore they rummaged through the caves for a while but with little success.

Instead of a statue of a mean Indian goddess, Jack found much prettier things like beautiful necklaces that had to look gorgeous on Rowan's golden skin. However, decorating her with precious jewelleries didn't really cheer up her gloomy mood.

"Let it be." Rowan said impatiently and pushed aside his hand with yet another ridiculous necklace, that one even more kitschy and therefore perhaps even more precious than the others. She straightened up and shot him a serious, slightly furious glance. "Am I just a nice little puppy to you that you can decorate with trumpery as you like it? Hey, look at me. Do I really look like I need that kind of glittering dross?"

A look of consternation came over Jack's face and he threw the necklace carelessly away, mumbling something like he only wanted to make her happy. He didn't understand it- any other woman would have been flattered by such a gift but Captain Rowan Scarlett didn't seem to give a damn about baubles other women would kill for. Then he looked at her- as she had asked him to- and came to the conclusion that she'd been right, somehow. She really didn't need neither gold, silver nor gemstones to look enticing…

Rowan's knees turned to jelly when he looked at her that way and she immediately regretted her harsh words. His chocolate brown eyes rimmed with khol reflected everything he'd probably never speak, those three little words of how much he really cared for her. Nevertheless she tried to keep her composure.

"Jack, if I'd want pretty clothes or precious jewels I would have plenty of them, savvy? Don't forget that I'm a pirate just like you are. I take what I want…" All of a sudden she didn't care about her composure anymore, instead she grabbed Jack at his collar and kissed him hard.

Santiago watched them and tsked before he addressed Marris. "You better keep a sharp eye on them, lad, because I sense lust in the air and we don't want these two vanish surreptitiously to a dark corner, do we?"

"Well, I don't mind 'em havin' fun." The blonde pirate replied shrugging, but then he looked insistently at the Spaniard. "Hey, if ye can 'sense' things, why don't ye just go and sense that damned statue of Nirrti? That would be quite useful."

"Ah, shut up. You might be a bright lad but you don't know anything about magic."

"How could I? I just found out that ye're a mighty magician though I must say 'm not surprised about it. Ye've always been a weird guy."

"Thanks." The Spaniard grumbled and pulled a face when he threw another glance at Rowan and Jack. All that smacking, licking and pawing was embarrassing. He wouldn't mind if they'd do it in private, but apparently you had to turn your back on them only for a minute and they start pouncing upon each other immediately without any sense of decency. Bloody pirates.

Suddenly there was a loud clattering, rattling and clanging. In the heat of the moment, the pirate couple had stumbled and landed awkwardly in a pile of treasures, which now collapsed underneath them. Finally they stopped smooching and took a peek at each other. They had to giggle and even Santiago couldn't help curling up his lips to an amused smile since they just looked too ridiculous. Golden coins dropped tinkling off their shoulders, some kitschy necklaces had got tangled in Jack's dreadlocks, and Rowans head was crowned with a golden bowl.

"You've had your fun, so please can we carry on with more essential matters now? If you remember- we're here to look for the statue of Nirrti." Santiago reminded them matter-of-factly.

"Actually, I've been doing nothing else but looking for that statue..." Rowan claimed with a big smile and got up, shaking off the last golden coins. "… though it might have looked different to you. Well, fact is, that unusual magical things sometimes require unusual methods in order to find them, savvy?" She took a step towards a niche in the stones that had been hidden by piles of treasures before. "Sometimes it even requires sort of a landslide to unveil what has been out of sight." Her hand reached out and got hold of a statue made of ebony and gold. Triumphantly she held it up. "Here she is, that little bitch!"

Everyone stared at the statue of Nirrti in disgusted fascination. The Vedan Goddess was portrayed as a naked, dark-skinned woman, slender, but with full breasts and broad child-bearing hips. Her hair was made of gold, flowing unruly over her shoulders to her waist. Yet the artist who'd once made the statue had also perfectly caught Nirrti's maliciousness. After all, there was no denial that she was the Goddess of death, decay, disease, calamity, and perversion.

"Alright, we've found her so can we please destroy Her Maliciousness now?" Rowan raised her arm in order to smash the statue to the floor although she knew it probably won't burst into thousand pieces- when an icy cold voice made her freeze in her tracks.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Norrington! Rowan had already expected him turning up here sooner or later, and of course he wasn't on his own. Five of his grey-clad puppet-on-strings vassals accompanied him- and Elisabeth Turner. However, she didn't accompany him voluntarily since her hands were tied and she was gagged. Norrington had taken her along as his leverage.

"Hand over the statue or I'll blow her head away." He emphasised and released the safety catch of his pistol to underline his words.

"No." Rowan said defiantly, and Santiago, Marris and Jack gave her encouragement by unsheathing their swords; a pistol was cocked.

"Sparrow, tell your whore to bring me that statue. At once." Norrington snarled disparagingly.

Jack looked around questioningly, honestly confused. "Has anyone seen a whore?"

Meanwhile Norrington's vassals tried to encircle the group of pirates but Santiago and Marris managed to keep them out of reach.

"Sparrow, I want that statue!"

"Captain. It's CAPTAIN Sparrow, and aye, I guess ye've already mentioned that you want the statue but what happens if we're not willing to give it to ye?" Jack was playing for time. Where's Will, he wondered, and a feeling of vast unease began to spread in his stomach. Will wouldn't allow Norrington to simply take Elisabeth away from him, he'd fight for her… _I'd die for her_, Jack remembered Will saying and he really hoped that the whelp hadn't done anything stupid. Yet he feared the worst when he saw the trail of tears on Elisabeth's face.

"I might have not made myself unmistakable clear." Norrington was losing patience; he tossed Elisabeth to the ground, one hand wrapped in her hair, so that she had to crouch at his knees in a degrading position. "Miss Elisabeth **and** her blacksmith lover are in my custody so it's up to you if they live or die. Well, in the lad's case it's rather improbable that he will live much longer- you know how rash he can be, and the wound's really quite nasty. But that's fine with me. I'm gonna take the sacrifice upon me and marry the lovely widow. Tsk, she shouldn't have married so far beneath her rank anyway…"

Jack went pale. There weren't many people he'd call friends but he'd become quite fond of the young Turners, and he couldn't possibly tell Bill that he'd let his only son die because of a statue. "Maybe you better give it to him.", he whispered in Rowan's ear.

That moment, chaos broke loose. Santiago and Marris attacked Norrington's men though the grey-clad outnumbered them, but the Spaniard had the advantage of being experienced in fighting for more than 200 years. Also he was a magician. After decapitating one man without batting an eye he threw a whirling ball of white smoke and blinding lights in the air. Eerie shadows flickered across the walls of the cave, and the diffuse twilight he had created made him appear taller, crueller and more dangerous.

_Distract them! I have to take care of Will!_ Marris winced when Santiago's voice throbbed in his head like rolling thunder and for an instant he forgot to pay attention to his opponents. Jack noticed that the blonde pirate was in distress so he hurried to his assistance- at the same time Rowan hurled the statue in Norrington's direction.

"You want it? You get it!"

Norrington bent down to pick it up but by doing so he couldn't keep an eye on Elisabeth anymore and that was exactly what Rowan had intended. Swiftly she was at the younger woman's side, helping her back on her feet.

"Quick! Hide somewhere!"

Then she whirled around and gave Norrington a heavy kick. Since he'd still been off balance he landed on his butt. Only a moment later she was in possession of the statue again.

"Cheated!" She said cheerfully but of course the Commodore had no sense of humour. She could- figuratively- see white fires of anger fuming from his nostrils as he realized that he'd gotten a beaten once again. By a woman! He let out a frustrated and infuriated howl of pain and unsheathed his sword to teach her a lesson.

Nevertheless, the first stroke nearly caught her unprepared and she raised her sword just in time. Their blades met clanging, sending off little blue sparks, but it was the force of his fierce attack that caused her arm to tremble. She felt a sharp pain flashing through it from her fingertips to her shoulder and her arm even got numb for a moment; she thought, she couldn't hold her sword any longer. Therefore she pretended to give in… only to use the strength of her legs again. When everything else failed, a well-positioned kick in a man's genitals always saved the situation- no matter whether said man was an obtrusive drunkard or a _fine _Commodore.

He gasped aloud and staggered backwards, clasping his hands to his private parts, shielding them now when it was already too late. Rowan didn't know whether she should feel sorry for him or burst out into laughter, but then she thought it would be wiser to prepare for another attack. Fortunately, her arm was getting better with every minute…

Fighting Norrington's vassals had kept Jack busy for a while but as soon as he had space for a moment he looked around for Rowan. He cursed when he saw her crossing blades with Norrington- why couldn't she just try to stay out of trouble?- but then he couldn't help smiling about how she handled the situation in her very own special way.

"Good footwork, darling." He shouted before he concentrated on the three remaining opponents again. It was really time to get rid of them.

A little later the sharp sound of a shooting pistol echoed through the cave. Rowan stared at the smoking barrel astonished that Norrington had actually dared to shoot at her. _Bloody coward- is he afraid to cross blades with me?_ Then the pain hit her like a bolt from the blue and a crimson haze blurred her sight. Now, she had the urgent desire to do some really mean and evil things to Norrington but she was hardly able to stay at her feet any longer. The shock and the loss of blood made itself felt; she swayed dizzily and fainted.

Jack heard the shot and from the corner of his eye he saw Rowan falling to the ground. Slowly the connection became conscious to him. Shot. Rowan was falling. He froze in his tracks and went pale. No, that couldn't be! He'd thought that his worst nightmares had already come true when he'd had to watch Barbossa sail away on his ship, leaving him to die on a godforsaken island…

"No!" He forgot about Norrington and his grey-clad vassals, he forgot about the statue of Nirrti- all he could think about was Rowan. He rushed to the place where she lay, motionless, bleeding. There was blood running down her face… This had to be a nightmare and he'd wake up soon, he told himself. Yet everything was so damned realistic. He yelled her name- or did he merely whisper it? His voice sounded so strange to him as if it wasn't his own; it was a stranger's voice. He was a stranger, completely out of his senses, horrified, petrified. He could only sit and stare at Rowan, at the thin line of blood than ran down her cheek. Wasn't it ironic? He hadn't looked for his perfect companion, his perfect match, when he'd stumbled down that stair at the prancing dragon and bumped into her… and now, now he couldn't even bear the thought of living without her.

Suddenly he noticed that it was oddly quiet in the cave- no rattle of swords, no hard breathing men, no shouting- only a very quietly splashing of waves could be heard. Jack was alone. He didn't know where all the others had disappeared but somehow he felt like the last survivor of mankind and everything had come to an end.

Then, Marris turned up breathlessly. He had been chasing Norrington and was still rather pissed off about his failure to track him down. His mood didn't improve much when he saw Rowan lying motionless on the ground and looking at Jack's face made him fear the worst. Nevertheless he reacted quite coolly and most of all practically. Instead of panicking he checked her pulse first before he sighed with relief; apparently he had realized at once what Jack had misinterpreted all the time. The blood on her face didn't come from a deadly shot in the head but she'd knocked her head when she'd fallen- the bullet had only wounded her left arm. It was a proper gunshot wound where the bullet had passed right through without even hitting the bone and though she had definitely lost a certain amount of blood she surely wouldn't die of it. Therefore Marris started patting her cheeks energetically.

To Jack it seemed as if a miracle had happened when Rowan opened her eyes, yet he felt incredible daft that he hadn't thought of checking her pulse. Bewildered she stared at the two men who stared at her in return. For a moment she neither knew what had happened nor where she was, but soon the memories came flowing back to her mind and she sat up with a start. Of course that wasn't very helpful for her weakened constitution since flashing stars danced in front of her eyes and her insides had a wild party. She had to vomit.

"Hush, darling. Take it easy and rest for a little while."

Rowan put him off impatiently. "Where's Norrington?"

"He's gone, and he's taken the statue along." Marris informed her morosely. "Actually, that bastard ran away directly after he'd shot at ye. I've tried to catch him but…"

"And where's Elisabeth?"

"Norrington…"

Rowan cursed loudly while trying to get on her feet, using Jack's arm as a support. She felt miserable, the pain in her arm was almost driving her mad and her head throbbed like it would burst any moment. Nevertheless, Elisabeth was tremendously important…

"Ah, don't worry about the lass. I'm sure that Norrington will do her no harm since he only has an aversion to Will, and Will is in safety now; Santiago has cared for… argh!" Marris pressed his hands to his ears and yelled: "Stop shouting at me, Santiago!" Then he looked back at Rowan, shrugging. "No, I'm not losing my mind. He is actually talking to me and I don't like that at all. Anyway, Will's safe and alive, so there's nothing to worry about."

"Damned, there's a lot to worry 'bout. Norrington's got the statue plus he's got Elisabeth. Why didn't she hide like I told her? Quick! We've gotta set sails! Take me back to the Jewel!"

"Well, shouldn't we fix yer wounds first?"

Rowan rolled her eyes. Of course, it was cute that Jack worried about her but she worried more about Nirrti. Nevertheless she tried to be patient with him. "Aye, but we can do that on a sailing ship. We really have to hurry."

Jack sighed and then he took 'take me to the Jewel' literally; he lifted her up and insisted on carrying her to their longboat. She was tempted to remind him that her arm was wounded and not her legs but didn't speak it out. Actually it was quite pleasant to snuggle up in his arms for a moment.

"So what's up- I mean, concerning Elisabeth?" Marris asked when they rowed back to the Jewel. "Norrington can't use her as leverage anymore since he's got all he wanted; he's got that statue of Nirrti."

"Aye. But not only the statue of Nirrti is needed to smooth the way for Her Maliciousness. They have to perform the ritual to set her free, don't ye get it? Therefore Norrington needs Elisabeth."

Jack pulled a disgusted face. "Nah, d'ye mean Norrington and Elisabeth… on a crematorium ground… the Commodore?"

"I'm sure he gives a damn on decency then. Besides, it's not the ritual sex that really matters, it never had. Norrington loves Elisabeth therefore he has to kill her."

"That lacks any logic…"

"To you, mayhap. But try to see the symbolism. Nirrti is the Goddess of death, destruction, and calamity, so what would suit her more than sacrificing a beloved one? It's like killing love itself."

Jack and Marris stared speechless at Rowan, then the blonde pirate started to row faster.

"Damned, I wished ye'd fantasize 'cause ye've knocked yer head- but I fear ye're right."

15


	16. 15 Pursuit the Huntress and the Hunters

Only two more chapters to come so have fun!

**15. Pursuit- the Huntress and the Hunters**

Miguel Alfonso de Santiago dematerialized himself and vanished; the magic of smoke and lights had distracted the pirates as well as Norrington's men. Shapeless he traveled through time and space, chasing the gradually fading spark of William Turner's life until he found him in the brig of the Royal Navy ship, Huntress. There he rematerialized and stared in utter shock at the poor lad who'd been beaten black and blue, his face scabby with dried blood.

Will managed to lift a swollen eye, mumbling the Spaniard's name as if in feverish delirium, not longer able to distinguish between reality and illusion. Besides, there are situations when all hope has faded and only pain remains.

Santiago could sense his pain and had to take a mental glimpse at the most horrible nightmares troubling the young man's mind, refusing his maltreated body the rest that it so urgently needed now. "Sh, relax. Don't worry. Everything will be fine. I'll take you away from here." he whispered as he wrapped his arms around Will's motionless form.

"Elisabeth…" Will breathed with all his remaining strength before he fainted again.

_Elisabeth_- he could only hope that the pirates had that situation under control, nevertheless it wasn't the right moment to worry about her; Norrington would probably not harm her. Instead he had to take immediate care of young Will Turner or he would lose the boy. They had to get away from here just like he'd promised, and his wounds had to be healed. Therefore Santiago concentrated on another time-and-space-travel, no matter how much strength it would cost him, Will had to be taken to the Jewel Star.

All these years he'd sailed with Rowan Scarlett and her crew, he'd always avoided revealing his powers to them. When he had to travel on magical paths he'd done it secretly by locking his cabin door before dematerializing himself. This time however he popped up straight upon the Jewel's deck.

There was quite a hustle aboard. Men rushed to load the cannons and fired them with a deafening noise at the Huntress, threatening her to stay out of range. Anybody should have been busy enough with that but Rowan Scarlett's crew nevertheless didn't fail to notice when someone just popped up from out of nowhere, holding an unconscious, bleeding man in his arms. Superstitious, like sailors were, some made the sign of the cross and others the sign against evil- yet none of it would have helped them if Santiago had really had ill deeds in mind. But he hadn't. He only wanted to take an overall view of the general situation before healing Will and he also needed some help at it. So was there anyone willing to help him?

"I bring hot water, Spaniard." Rashid said matter-of-factly. Having been an eyewitness of the massacre at the Maharaja's palace in Madras he simply wasn't to be shocked that easily anymore.

Santiago nodded approvingly though there were still many pirates flashing him suspicious looks. McCoy shooed them away, back to their work. "Anything else ye need?"

"I help." A huge, dark-skinned man said and took Will's motionless body from Santiago's arms. The Spanish magician was definitely no weakling but he felt like a heavy weight had been lifted from him, although Will looked so small and vulnerable in the Negro's broad arms now. M'leh gently brushed some whisks of hair out of the unconscious lad's face. "He's a good man. Never liked being served by a slave, always thanked me for doing me duty. That's why I wanna help him." He glanced at Santiago. "My father was a medicine man, I know about medicine and Voodoo magic. I'm not scared. I help you."

A little while later Will's wounds had been attended to. He hadn't gained consciousness again but at least he wasn't feverish anymore, and the sleep he was sleeping now was a restful one, untroubled by any nightmares. M'leh would stay and watch over him, so Santiago could take a break. He went to the main deck again where there was still the same hectic of back and forth scurrying men firing cannons, nevertheless that didn't impress him. He simply cut out all the noises from his mind and took a deep breath… when suddenly the sound of the cannons died. McCoy had ordered to cease the fire after looking through his telescope with a worried face. It didn't take long and Santiago knew why.

A longboat was leaving the caves of Isla de Muerta, and in that longboat rowed by two grey-clad men sat not only Norrington but also Elisabeth, being his leverage once again. Of course no pirate would shoot at that boat. _Damned, what has happened after that promising start? Why did Norrington have the advantage again, now?_ Santiago wondered and mentally scanned the island for Rowan, Jack and Marris. He sensed that Rowan was wounded- but fortunately not critically- and that she was worried about… about…

It hit him like the famous bolt from the blue. Elisabeth! She was the clue to so many unanswered questions, therefore he had to keep an eye on her and not on Rowan, Jack or Will. The pirates would get by without him like they usually did, also due to Jack's talent for talking himself out of any worrisome situation. No, they weren't in danger- but Elisabeth was.

"McCoy, tell Rowan- she'll be back here soon, by the way- that I'm going to be away for probably quite a while since I have to take care of Elisabeth Turner."

"Aye." The Irishman looked at him unimpressed. "But remember that ye're among superstitious pirates, so do me the favor of not vanishing from under their eyes. Ye know, I don't mind what ye're doing or what ye **are **as long as ye don't scare the crew I'm responsible for at the moment. Savvy?"

Santiago gave him a wry smile. Of course it had never been his intention to show off with his magic, so of course he would depart as secretly as he'd always done- somewhere below deck where nobody could see him leaving. He sighed and gathered his strength for another magical travel.

Rowan closed the cabin door and sank into a chair. She felt really miserable; her arm still hurt like hell, she was tired and totally frustrated. Norrington had the Statue of Nirrti and Elisabeth because of her failure, she hadn't been able to stop him. She had acted like an absolute beginner, inattentive, surprised that he'd fire his pistol at her. Therefore she'd deserved the pain.

She was glad that she was alone for a moment so no one could see her when she gave way to her tears, they ran across her cheeks, leaving hot, wet trails on her skin. She wept silently, tears of frustration, pain, and anger at herself.

When Marris walked in, carrying Santiago's medical box and two bottles of rum, she quickly wiped the treacherous trails off her face but of course she couldn't fool him.

"It's not yer fault, Rowan." He uncorked one bottle and handed it to her. "Here, ye better drink as much as ye can 'cause it'll get rather painful now, ye know."

"I don't mind." She lied, nevertheless she grabbed the bottle and gulped down a good amount of rum. At least the feeling of nausea faded. Without looking at Marris she said. "I should have…"

"No." He immediately cut her short. "Don't rack yer brain with if only. That never makes any sense. Whatever happened, it has happened and ye can't change it, savvy. Now lemme have a look at yer arm."

Rowan sighed and unbuttoned her shirt in order to take it off when she winced with pain. Dried blood had stuck the fabric to her skin but she ripped if off resolutely because she wanted to get it over and done with. Her wounded arm was extremely sensitive, it almost hurt when Marris took a close look at it though he hadn't even touched her yet. She needed more rum. She wanted to get really drunk; so drunk that she wouldn't feel the pain anymore, that she wouldn't have to cry anymore. Marvelously drunk and numb.

She had just finished the first bottle when suddenly something seemed to be strangely wrong to her. _Why was Marris about to fix my arm and not…_ _Oh, of course, Santiago's not here. McCoy had given me a short summery of what had transpired, including what Santiago had asked him to tell me. He's off to have an eye on Elisabeth. He's probably aboard the Huntress now, and we're following the Huntress, so the Huntress has become the hunted one. Funny. But what does Marris know about fixing wounds? _

"D'ye really know what ye're 'bout to do?"

"Aye, don't worry. I've assisted Santiago many times more than ye've done." At once aware that he shouldn't have said that he bit his lower lip and tried to distract Rowan's thoughts. "Listen, my dear, ye know that I have to cause ye a lotta pain now when I clean yer wound so are ye sure ye don't wanna have Jack here to hold yer hand?"

Rowan just snorted. She hadn't asked Jack to take over command of the Jewel for nothing. Her crew could cope very well without her for a while but that she hadn't wanted him to be around because she simply couldn't be strong now. She didn't want him to see her crying and she already knew that she would cry.

"Rum." She said and pointed at the second bottle. Though she was never scared of being wounded, she was a real scaredy-cat when it came to medical treatments. Therefore she needed more rum. Yet, there was still something else preoccupying her mind, something that's got to do with Jack and medical treatments… Then she knew. Accusingly she raised her brows and pressed her index finger at Marris' chest.

"You. Ye're a bloody cheat, me hearty. Why didn't ye tell me in Port Royal? Why did I have te poke 'round in Jack's shoulder when ye could've done better?"

"Ah, not better. Ye did a great job, Rowan. Besides, there are things that are better done by a gentle woman's hand." Marris was glad that the alcohol had already taken effects on her otherwise she probably would have killed him now. But somehow he'd known even then, that Captain Jack Sparrow would be the perfect match for her and therefore she had had to take care of him. Well, and obviously she had done her best or else they wouldn't be together now.

Rowan glanced at him with narrowed eyes, a suspicious look on her face. Then she took another swig from the bottle and let out a hick. "Why don't ye just start torturing me?"

Later, Marris fluffed the pillows in her bed and piled some of them in order to make it more comfortable for her. Rowan gave him a drunken smile. Her arm was set, the pain had faded and her tears had dried. She felt a bit dozy now, drunk on the rum and drugged by some painkillers that Marris must have mixed in it. She giggled at that thought because it reminded her of how she'd drugged the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow once, and that again reminded her of Jack himself.

"Where's me Jack?" She slurred, impatiently tugging at Marris' sleeve. "I want Jack now. Where's me pretty pirate? "

Marris rolled his eyes. Though he had intended to get her drunk, she occasionally could become a real pain in the neck when she was drunk, and today was definitely one of these occasions. Sighing he tried to tuck her up in a blanket but she didn't want to let go of his sleeve.

"Where's Jack?" Rowan whined.

_At the helm where ye sent him_, he was tempted to say but she'd been so brave when he had tended her wounded arm- she had just gritted her teeth and endured the pain silently, with silent tears running down her cheeks- therefore she didn't deserve any sarcastic comments. Marris gently stroked her head.

"I'll fetch him." He promised and hurried to leave the cabin.

Jack was at the helm of the Jewel Star. He enjoyed steering her since she was a fast, agile and easy to maneuver ship. All sails were set and fully braced, the canvas crackled in the wind, and the Jewel Star was making remarkable speed. They should have caught up with the Huntress by now, ready to attack and board her, saving Elisabeth. Yet somehow the Huntress had almost disappeared from sight, swallowed by the rapidly falling night. That was odd. A small two-masted vessel shouldn't be uncatchable for two of the fastest pirate ships that had ever sailed the Caribbean. He looked across his shoulder at astern and had to see that his Black Pearl was even further behind as if she couldn't keep pace with the Jewel.

_Nonsense! Gibbs just doesn't know how to treat a lady like the Pearl,_ he tried to talk himself into believing although he knew it wasn't true. Probably the Jewel was indeed a little bit faster due to all that modern stuff Marris had once shown him. And the Huntress- well there had been so much talk about magic recently that he shouldn't be surprised about anything anymore. If only he'd know where she was heading.

"Set course for Port Royal." Someone told him.

Jack wondered if he should make it unmistakably clear that firstly, he preferred to be addressed as Captain, and secondly, that he didn't take orders from anybody. Then he became aware of the fact that he wasn't Captain of the Jewel Star and Marris wasn't just anybody.

"Ye're sure?"

Marris grimaced without uttering a word, looking terribly pale and exhausted. Jack knew what was wrong with him. If he'd hear Alf's voice ringing in his head unasked, he'd probably look the same. _Must be horrible for him to get attacked by Alf's ever so right instructions all the time even if he himself wasn't even present. No chance to cover yer ears when someone has decided to mess up yer brain._

"Take a rest mate." He said. "Ye need it."

"Nah- I'm fine. Besides, Rowan wants to see ye so I'll take yer place now. Better not keep her waiting."

Jack kept back any questions about her welfare because Marris didn't need to know how much he really cared about her; he had already made a fool of himself in the caves. Now he knew that no one died of a gunshot wound in the arm and after all, she was still better off than Will. He had gone to have a look at the whelp before he'd taken over the helm and was still distressed. So maybe he should take another look at the lad and then go to Rowan…

"Jack. Rowan's waiting. Let go of the helm now." Marris elbowed him slightly impatient, reminding him that he still had a firm clasp on the wheel. Steering a ship meant freedom to him, especially at night when he could let his thoughts roam. Any ship meant freedom, endless horizons, the world at his feet. Therefore he'd never cared about a woman for longer than a night because usually any close relationship inevitably meant the end of freedom. Strangely, but he'd never felt cramped nor his freedom curbed when he was with Rowan. Perhaps that was because she knew more about the meaning of being free than anyone else he'd ever met simply because she was a woman **and **a pirate captain. It must have demanded so much more of her to get where she was now- the captain of her very own ship- since in these times women had only little choices; either they got married or they ended up as a whore... and of course there was also the possibility to become a nun- very unlikely. Instead, Rowan Scarlett had bluntly ignored all social conventions and chosen the hardest way, the way of independence.

Lost in thoughts he walked down the companionway and entered Rowan's cabin.

"Jacky-boy!" Rowan stretched out her good arm to give him an enthusiastic welcome. The blanket she'd been tucked in slid off her naked shoulders and revealed a good amount of golden tanned skin. "Come 'ere cutie."

Jack frowned. Though he definitely liked it when women gave him enthusiastic welcomes, he was a bit bewildered by her behavior. She was somehow different today. He stepped closer and sat down next to her on the bed. "Are ye alright luv?"

"Missed ye." Clumsily she patted his cheeks then she got hold of one of his dreadlocks; the pearls attached to it started to jingle and she giggled, rattling with it. "'ave ye missed me too?"

"Darling ye're drunk." Jack tried to free himself of her grip before she could tear out his hair. Immediately she pulled a defiant face and started moaning.

"Nah- not drunk. Mean pirate." Then she snuggled herself up to him, rested her head on his chest and gave him a slightly idiotic smile, blinking green eyes at him. "'ello me fav'rite pirate. Ye've so lovely choc… chocolata… no, chocolate eyes, ye know?" Once again she reached out for his hair but then she decided otherwise and grabbed his twin beard instead. "WANT A KISSSS!"

"Ouch! That hurts."

Rowan looked at him cross-eyed, feeling rejected and affronted. "Ye don't wanna kiss me." she whined and crawled back under the sheets, sniffing.

"Hey, 'course I wanna kiss ye but ye don't have to tear out my hair." Jack gently touched her shoulder but she just covered her head with her blanket, still sniffing defiantly like a little girl who hadn't gotten what she wanted. Amused by her drunken ways Jack lifted the blanket and started to nuzzle her hair when she suddenly flung her good arm around his neck.

"Ge' off!" She hiced, shaking her head in confusion. "Nah, I mean, get off yer clothes 'n com' 'ere."

Jack thought that it would be a good idea to join her and hold her tight, hoping she'd fall asleep then. He'd never seen her so drunk before and though it was somehow amusing, she really needed some sleep now. He gave her a kiss and at once she started giggling again.

"Yer beard tick…tickles." Since that had been such a funny feeling- she was absolutely sure that she'd never noticed it before no matter how often they'd kissed- she pressed her lips on his again. Then something else distracted her. "Ummm, Capt'n Sparrow ye taste like rum. Want more rum. Where's me rum?"

Oddly, and he had thought that she would be the only one of them who tasted of rum since she had also been the only one of them who had been drinking.

Rowan bent across the edge of her bed and scanned the floor. "Rum? Here rummy, rummy, rummy. Where 're ye? Ah- there you've hidden, ye mean, malic'sss bottle."

"No, no, no." Jack swiftly took the bottle from her hand and placed it out of range. Immediately that defiant little girl look appeared on her face again. "Listen darling why don't we just go to bed and sleep a little while?"

"Ye wanna sleep wit' me?" Now she fluttered her lashes at him and grinned broadly. "Naughty boy."

Well, though he'd never minded to lay a drunken women before he didn't want to lay a drunken and wounded woman who simply wasn't herself tonight. Nevertheless it was hard to resist when she cuddled herself comfortably into his arms, entwining her legs with his. She looked dreamily at him, her fingertips danced playfully across her chest- and only a minute later she'd fallen asleep. Jack sighed with relief, then he shifted carefully not to wake her again and extinguished the candle.

Rowan awoke when a warm golden light fell in her cabin. She lifted an eye and blinked at the light but her head protested painfully so she closed her eye again. Her head didn't feel much better though. _Have I been drinking_? she wondered and tried to recollect the previous day. Then she noticed that she wasn't alone in her bed, Jack was with her. _Ah, I must have been drinking with Jack_… She turned around in order to snuggle up to him but her insides were having a wild party and she wasn't invited. Laying still on her back and breathing carefully she waited for the nausea to disappear. At that moment she suddenly got aware of her left arm, which hurt, so she had to open her eyes once more to take a look at it. This time the light was less painful. Her eyes wandered down at her left side and she saw a bandage wrapped around her arm. At once the memories came flowing back. _Isla de Muerta… Statue of Nirrti…Norrington… a shot. I'm wounded but there's something of major importance I **absolutely** have to tell Jack and Marris, concerning Elisabeth. ELISABETH!_

Rowan sat up with a start but neither her head nor her stomach appreciated that. She remembered now that Marris had tended her wound and therefore he'd given her some rum… her eyes fell on the threequarters empty bottle on the floor just out of range from the bed and she had to correct herself- _ok, he got me pickled with almost two bottles of rum in order to fix my wound._ _So what?_

Yet that's all she could remember. Marris had put her to bed, fluffed the pillows and tucked her up. After that nothing but total emptiness, a dark void in her head. She didn't even know when Jack had come to bed. It must have been late because he was still sound asleep and that surprised her, knowing he usually woke up at the slightest sound. Tenderly she brushed his lips with hers. He didn't stir; he just pulled a content face and kept on sleeping.

She didn't want to disturb him, besides she had other needs that had to be satisfied- like pouring a bucketful of water over her aching head or calming her stomach down with a good cup of tea.

Her crew smirked when she appeared on deck and actually did pour a bucket of water over her head. Then, shaking drops out of her hair, she replied their smirks.

"Hey, what's up boys? Never seen yer captain with a hangover?"

Of course they had, many times, and even if some of them teased her a bit these jests were good-natured since they were happy to see her well.

"I've heard Marris had to do some stitching?" someone said.

"Bah! Back to work ye scabby dogs."

Laughing they obeyed her order though none of them had really neglected his duty while making jokes. Rashid proved his knack in doing the right things at the right time by popping up on deck with a mug of steaming, freshly brewed up first flush Darjeeling and handed it to Rowan so that she could take care of more significant things. Sipping her tea she climbed the stairs to the afterdeck in order to hear from McCoy what had happened lately.

He informed her that they'd lost sight of the Huntress at dusk but that Marris apparently _knew_ where the ship was heading, therefore the course had been set for Port Royal. Then he lingered on the weird deeds Santiago had done but Rowan wasn't in the mood to hear about weird things at the moment. She wanted to do something, like taking over the helm for instance. Yet McCoy wouldn't let her. Frowning he looked at her bandaged arm and tsked.

"Sailed on merchants ships once, ye know? Never saw a captain working there. They spent their time barking orders or punishing the sailors when they're not dining with their officers or noble passengers."

Rowan rolled her eyes. She had heard that story many times before, actually every time when her perfectionist mind told her to do all the work aboard by herself and her crew thought she should slow down.

"Ah, so what d'ye want me to do now? Bark orders or punish ye for speaking up yer mind? Unfortunately there are neither officers amongst pirates nor any noble passengers aboard I could dine with." She snorted and went to the rail, looking across the sea. The problem with a crew of good and loyal men was that they cared too much for her and exactly** that **was the problem sometimes. She needed some action to forget her hangover. It was boring just to stare at the sea.

Rowan put one leg on the rail and stretched it. For a moment her muscles protested, reminding her that she'd been quite lazy with her exercises lately. Too much booze and too much toying around with a certain pirate captain- she grinned at that thought. _Well I've just done different exercises_. Yet it definitely **was** time for a little body work-out now. She repeated that procedure with her other leg before she went over to some Tai-Chi practices and then she thought it really annoying that she couldn't use her left arm properly since it still hurt. Nevertheless she continued best as possible, performing a strange mixture of Tai-Chi and kick-boxing combined with sword fighting.

McCoy shook his head. "Why can't ye just take things easy and relax?"

"Because…" She raised her sword as if she wanted to parry an invisible opponent's stroke. "…I don't wanna get wounded again. And…" Spinning on one foot and she kicked out with the other. "… because I wanna be damned sure that next time I meet Norrington I'll be well-prepared, because next time I meet him I'm gonna beat the hell outta him." Then she made a thrust forward like running her sword through someone. "Savvy?"

"Aye Captain." _Would it make any sense at all to remind her that she'd suffered a gunshot wound and had not been beaten in a sword fight, therefore she didn't have to train for a fight?_ McCoy wondered. Yet she had never been the one to relax and take it easy, of course she'd continue her training. After all, she was the toughest woman he'd ever met and though she knew that she didn't have to prove herself to her crew, she did it regardless. That's what he wished she'd slow down a bit. Then he watched Jack Sparrow watching her. Mayhap the infamous pirate captain could persuade her to take things easier.

Jack had watched her ever since he'd appeared on deck and simply couldn't take his eyes off her. He liked the way she moved, spinning swift and kicking hard, a female whirlwind. Suddenly she jumped down the stairs to the main deck where he was standing and tickled his throat with the tip of her blade.

"Hi darling, fancy a little bit of training?"

His smile froze since he was in a real dilemma now. On the one hand he'd sworn never to raise his blade against women but on the other hand he couldn't back out either. Everyone aboard seemed to stare at him, waiting for his next move. They wanted to see whether he could stand against Rowan or not and that's why he had to cross blades with the woman he'd rather bed than fight. But most of all he didn't want them to think he might be was scared of a practice bout with their captain or- even worse, that he was a coward. He was Captain Jack Sparrow, therefore he definitely wasn't scared and since he knew quite well how to entertain an audience he'd give them the show they wanted to see. And then he could still take her to bed…

"D'ye think it's wise crossing blades with a pirate, luv?" He asked smirking, running his blade along hers with a screeching sound.

"Bah!" She snorted and raised her sword to shove him back. "Is that all ye've got to offer?"

"Gimme time to warm up an' I'll show ye more."

Their blades met a couple of times, beat and counter beat, but it was more like an idle playing around, the ordinary game of attack, parry and riposte, still easy-going in strength and speed. They circled right, then left, interchanging some simple strokes in order to find out how the other one reacted and cautiously watching each other's movements.

Soon Rowan got bored so she increased the speed in order to prove him that he should stop worrying about her. It didn't take long and Jack sat surprised and unarmed on the main deck.

"Tsk- what did ye wanna show me?" She teased him. "Better watch yer defence."

Jack quickly jumped to his feet again, trying to ignore the cheers of her crew. They seemed to be very pleased that Rowan had gained the upper hand over him for a moment but Captain Jack Sparrow wasn't to be beaten by a woman. He gave up his scruples about fighting a woman and tried to catch her off guard but she blocked his attack immediately. Their blades met with a rattling sound. So they were back to those gliding beats and forced glides he liked so much- he almost seemed to be flirting with his cutlass- but instead of pushing him back she leaned closer to him.

"All that rum ye drink slows ye down, my dear."

"Ha- who of us tried to charm a bottle of rum last night?" He imitated her voice. "Here rummy, rummy, rummy…"

Rowan blushed. She vaguely remembered dangling over the edge of bed- but that was no reason for him to remind her nor to show off. It was time to teach him some respect.

Jack had to admit that he'd underestimated her. In fact, she gave him quite a hard time, chasing him up and down the afterdeck. Although she definitely wasn't strong enough to beat him, she compensated for her lack of strength with speed and some very unique strategies, including her amazing footwork. And since she knew damned well that she couldn't beat him in a fair fight she didn't even bother to fight fair.

After a while of crossing blades under the hot Caribbean sun Jack had figured her out. He could predict her next charge when she jump forward while lunging but he evaded her and seized her blade. Now they were quite close with Rowan off balance and at a serious disadvantage. Actually there was no chance left for her except- his eyes widened.

"No!" He yelled. "I admire yer footwork **but don't do that**!"

Rowan lowered her weapon, not defeated but she gave up. "Don't worry, darling. I definitely won't hurt yer most precious parts."

Jack sighed with relief. "Good. It's only for **your **best, ye know. Now come here and give the winner a little kiss."

"Winner?" She arched a brow at him, slightly annoyed with his impertinent manner. "Ye didn't beat me- I spared ye."

Quite content she turned around and headed for the companionway in order to get out of the sun since she was streaming with sweat and feeling a bit dizzy. But before she could reach her cabin she was suddenly roughly pinned against the wall, Jack's face close to hers, his hands strong on her shoulders.

"**I** won." He stressed and moved even closer, pressing his hips possessively against hers.

For a moment Rowan wished she hadn't spared him. Narrowed green eyes shot him a defiant look when his devilish tongue wet his lips in anticipation yet her treacherous body reacted wantonly, very well aware of his masculine and intimate proximity. She tried hard to hide the strong feelings of lust that crawled up within her..

"Just admit it and I won't tell anybody that ye couldn't beat me… a woman." She whispered hoarsely in a last attempt to resist him but failed.

"But ye couldn't beat me either." Jack grumbled stubbornly before he finally ended that ineffective discussion by claiming her lips with wild determination, invading her mouth with his ravaging tongue.

Rowan groaned and replied to his kiss with the same mad ferocity though she despised herself for being so such a spineless creature. She should have… no matter- it was just too good, too **right **to worry about what she should have done instead of kissing him.

Entwined in their embrace they stumbled down the last few steps of the companionway to her cabin door, crashing against it, still kissing passionately. With one hand Rowan groped for the handle and opened the door before they surrendered to lust just here and now, pounced upon each other without consideration about where they were. Then, staggering eagerly towards the bed Jack and Rowan got caught in the act by a familiar voice.

"Hope you're having fun, kids."

Rowan winced and whirled around to see Santiago sitting in on of the chairs next to the table. "Bloody hell! How dare to startle me that way? Never do that again, savvy!" Running her fingers through her hair she gave him a closer look. "Besides, what're ye doin' here anyway? How did ye manage to sneak into my cabin?"

Jack elbowed her. "Hey, he's a magician, therefore he's definitely able to…" Suddenly he fell silent and his face became worried. "Alf? Are ye alright, mate? Ye look deadly pale, ye know."

"Ah, thanks for noticing," the Spaniard snorted sardonically. _Should I mention that everyone would look tired after mentally fighting an evil magician? No. Also there's no use to tell them that every single teleport is exhausting and I've done a lot recently. Maybe too many… _His thoughts were interrupted by Jack who offered him a glass of rum- apparently his favourite cure-all.

"Here, this might help."

Santiago took a sip and relaxed, flashing the pirate a thankful smile. "Good boy," he whispered barely audible.

"What about Elisabeth?" Rowan asked impatiently.

Santiago sighed wearily. "She won't be in danger before tomorrow night at new moon."

"Ah, that's some comfort. So we've got plenty of time…"

"No need to get sarcastic my dear girl." The Spaniard cut her short but his voice was still low, calm and thoughtful. "Do you think I don't know what kind of trouble is awaiting us? You're not the only one who knows of the dark ritual that has to take place in order to wake the Goddess Nirrti and I'm also well aware of the ritual act that has to be performed. You can be sure that that is something I want to spare Elisabeth."

"Aye, but it's not the perverted act that really matters but the symbolism." Rowan ran her fingers through her hair again, thinking hard about the missing part in that puzzle. Ratbone alias Anirvan had the Chalice of Doom, he had the Statue of Nirrti, and in Norrington he also had an obedient servant who happened to be in love with the sacrifice, Elisabeth. Yet Norrington would kill her without even batting an eyelash as soon as his master gave him the order. So far it was all known, the only question remaining was **where** that was going to happen? She remembered Jack pulling a disgusted face, saying _d'ye mean Norrington and Elisabeth… on a crematorium ground…_

"Is there a crematorium ground in Jamaica?" She asked and started to rummage frantically through her charts and maps, looking for the very detailed map of Jamaica she'd used when she'd freed Jack from jail. _Jack_- for a moment she got distracted by shooting him a surreptitious gaze- _never thought I'd ever fall in love with that scoundrel, then_.

"No. Rowan, stop flicking through your maps because they won't tell you more than you should already know. Think about it- Jamaica is an English colony, therefore it is christianised, and therefore you'll certainly not find any crematorium ground on that island. People who die get a decent burial in a graveyard, in consecrated soil. You should know that, my dear."

"Um… now **you**'re wrong, Alf." Jack interjected thoughtfully. He bent down to have a closer look at the map Rowan had spread out on the table, then he glanced at the Spaniard again. "The Spanish Main was only called the Spanish Main after the first Spaniards showed up, slaying the natives that lived here. Well, though all Tainos were killed their artefacts are still present. There are carvings 'n paintings of them, ritual places, burial grounds- Well, considering that that ritual's supposed to take place at a very gloomy and somehow eerie place like a crematorium ground with lost souls lingering around and all that stuff, the odd graveyard is ruled out because of its holy soil. Not a good place for an evil magician, right? But it seems to me that a **cave** the **Tainos** used for their 'heathen' ceremonies would suit good ol' Ratbone quite well for his evil deeds, agreed?"

Santiago stared like one hypnotised at Jack's whirling, wagging hands with which the pirate underlined his words. It was because of these eccentric gestures he sometimes forgot that Jack Sparrow was not only a smart ass but also a very bright lad, while he himself had just proved to be a stupid fool. All the time he'd wondered why Norrington kept Elisabeth captive in a cave, not guessing that the answer was so simple. He laughed tiredly.

"What?" Jack snapped, misinterpreting Santiago's laughter as the usual slagging off.

"You're so correct with your assumption, my dear boy…"

"Ah." The pirate grinned broadly and bowed exaggeratedly to the elder man, faking a _wai_ in his typically Jack Sparrow way, but inwardly he secretly glowed with delight because it had been a very long time since Alf had praised him last. Yet that was no reason at all to allow Alf to pat his cheeks as if he was still a little boy so he shrank away. Rowan couldn't keep back an amused smirk while Alf seemed a little absent-minded, babbling about a cave.

"… a labyrinth of caves interconnected with tunnels in the limestone hills. There are swallows and fish eating bats, and the cave Norrington holds Elisabeth captive in contains a petroglyph, a rock carving of a face- probably of an ancient and long forgotten deity." He paused for a moment, biting his lips. "I wanted to save her, take her away from there, but failed. Anirvan noticed my presence; his spirit located mine on a magical level and we spent endless hours in a mental fight until I gave up and fled. He's strong though he has not regained his full strength yet."

Rowan began to feel uneasy. She had never seen Santiago so tired and exhausted before, never so despondent, almost disillusioned. Now that was really worrisome and not a good sign at all. They should be up to defeating that repulsive creep instead of knuckling down to him. She glanced to Jack who studied the map again, muttering something to himself, and she didn't like that either.

"What's on yer mind?"

Jack chose to ignore her and addressed Alf instead. "Is that cave somewhere near Port Royal by chance?"

The Spaniard just nodded lost in his thoughts.

"Ha!" With unnerving calmness Jack bend over the map again, running his finger across it until he finally circled an area, a contend smile on his face. That was too much for Rowan. She thumped on the table with her fist. "Damn it, talk to me!"

Jack stared at her dumbfounded, not knowing what he'd done wrong. "What d'ye wanna hear, luv?"

"Come on, it's really not the right time for any egocentric solo efforts. Share yer brilliance with me, **darling**."

No one else could give the word 'darling' such a sharp and dangerous undertone like she could. It dawned on him that she probably wanted to know what he knew and what his plan was. Well, that was exactly the problem. Oh, of course he had a plan, he **always** had a plan- or at least a vague idea of a plan- but he wasn't used to sharing it. A mutiny can teach you a lot of things, better not trust anyone and play it close to your chest. Yet that wouldn't do with Rowan. She was right, they had to stick together and besides, she deserved being trusted.

"Well, take a look." He pointed at some hills located south-west of Port Royal. "These are the Hellshire Hills and here close to that beach are the caves Alf has described. The Tainos used them for ceremonial purpose once and later they became popular with the rum-runners since the lower caves have an access to the sea for small boats." Jack shrugged sighing. "Unfortunately Commodore Norrington ended the glorious era by hunting down most of the rum-runners and that's why ye can hardly get any decent rum in Port Royal nowadays- at least none at a fair price. Savvy?"

"Hmm…" Rowan brushed an unruly wisp of hair out of her face and pinned it behind her ear while still looking at the map. "So we're gonna enter the caves like the smugglers did, mess up the ritual and save Elisabeth? Is that yer plan?"

"Nope. We can't weigh anchor anywhere near Hellshire Beach if we wanna bring the moment of surprise into play. Therefore I'd say…" His fingertip glided to a bay with many offshore islands on the other side of Hellshire Hills "…we weigh anchor somewhere here. We go ashore, sneak through the forest towards the caves and then we mess up the ritual and save Elisabeth. Of course, Alf has to take care of Ratbone since he's the only magician of us- so what d'ye say? Alf?"

"Si, I'll take care of Anirvan." Santiago replied in a tone that wasn't very encouraging. Wearily he got up of his chair and kissed Rowan's as well as Jack's forehead. "Take a rest my dear ones."

Rubbing his forehead Jack watched Santiago leaving the cabin. "Gosh, Alf has always been a weird guy but today he really scared me."

"Aye." Rowan uncorked a bottle of wine and filled two glasses. "I really hope he's just dreadfully tired because I've never seen him so despondent and almost discouragingly disillusioned before."

"Ah that. I was just alluding to the fact that he **kissed** me."

"I hope ye get over that shock." She passed him a glass, trying to fake a smile but failed. "Honestly, Jack, don't ye think that's worrisome?"

Jack drank a sip of wine and noticed astounded that he liked the taste meanwhile. The wine she offered always tasted of sunlit hills with ripening grapes, sweet kisses on a lazy morning, and blissful nights spent making love. But most of all it tasted of her. He sat down on the bed and opened his arms invitingly. "Come here, luv, stop worrying."

"I don't know if I'm really in **that** mood." Rowan replied but sat down next to him anyway, resting her head on his shoulder. The wild ecstasy of lust had faded when they entered her cabin and now it seemed to be enough to share at least a little proximity. "Let's just go to bed, aye?"

_Take a rest._ _Now how ironical does that sound when the one who said it was also the one who had given you a lot to think about- discouraging thoughts, by the way. _Rowan couldn't sleep. Actually she couldn't even think of sleep since her mind was much too preoccupied with worries. She crawled closer to Jack, enjoying the warmth of his body and listening to his steady heartbeat. It reminded her that they were still alive, nothing was lost yet, things could still turn out right and kissing them resignedly was not Santiago's way of saying goodbye, not a final gesture. She tossed and turned but always ended up cuddling closer to Jack's warm embrace, wishing she could crawl straight inside him.

"Why d'ye never worry 'bout anything?" She whispered thoughtfully, not aware that he didn't sleep either and might have heard that.

"But I do." Jack admitted in the same low tone, almost inaudible_. Actually I worry about a lot of things and I also know the meaning of fear. I fear mutinies, being marooned on godforsaken islands… I fear losing my Pearl again… but most of all I fear losing you._ He hugged her tightly yet that didn't seem to be enough, he wanted to be closer to her, as close as possible. "Come here."

He kissed her tenderly and when they made love it wasn't for lust but for the desperate need to feel secure in each other's embrace, the need for physical proximity and spiritual intimacy. For a long time they forgot all troubles that worried them, remembering the love they shared and trying to keep in mind every kiss, every touch, every single caress. None of both knew what would be expecting them when they reached Jamaica, whether their adventure would turn out well or not, or if they would still be alive tomorrow. Maybe they only had this night left.

After making love their bodies had sated their needs and their limbs felt sleepily relaxed, but their minds couldn't come to rest. Entwined in their embrace neither Rowan nor Jack could sleep but they were also too tired to talk. Silent they held each other tight as if they'd never let go- until they heard the call 'Land ahoy' from deck.

Rowan shuddered involuntary. She bent her head to kiss Jack once more before she rose from the bed and though she had expected to feel worn out by the lack of sleep, she wasn't. Instead she felt partly fresh, strangely calm and reassured in every way, but most of all very determined.

"Let's go and kick some ass! By the way, Norrington's mine."

12


	17. 16 Magical Mayhem

It's been a long time, I know. Last time I said only two more chapters to come and I say the same today. There's so much happening so I have to put it in two chapters. Hope you don't mind and enjoy reading... 

16- Magical Mayhem

Jack propped himself up on one elbow and watched Rowan dress. Once again she wore these tight black clothes that looked so sexy on her, yet he doubted she was wearing them for that reason. Then she quickly plaited her unruly red wine mane in two tight braids and wrapped a black bandana around her head so that not a single wisp of hair could fall into her eyes. Talking about her eyes- she'd applied black khol to them, which intensified her emerald green look and gave it a mysterious, even dangerous impression.

"Dressed to kill for the Commodore, huh?"

"What d'ye mean?" She snarled warily.

"Ye're taking this fight with Norrington really seriously, aren't ye?"

"Listen Jack, if this is gonna be an attempt to talk it out of me then…"

"No, no that's alright with me. Go and give him a good beating." Jack interjected at once since it wouldn't make any sense to try and protect her from the danger she was seeking. Also, she could protect herself well enough. She'd almost managed to beat him in that practice bout- well, probably she would have beaten him indeed if she hadn't had scruples… he preferred to call that practical thinking of a wantonly mind.

"Oh, so I've got yer blessing, Captain Sparrow?" Rowan sounded ironic yet that was only to hide her surprise; she had expected having to argue with him about that.

"Well, I know you can handle him."

"Ta." She had to turn away from him, feeling incredibly flattered. The blood rushed to her head and she knew she was blushing. No need for him to see that. Feigning concentration she bent over the map of Jamaica when she noticed Jack still watching her. She looked up and shot him a confused glance. "What're ye staring at me for?"

"Hmmm… I like the way ye look, luv."

That wasn't fair. This was going to be a hard day but he was lolling about her bed, purring like a big, content tomcat, stretching his body in a lazy and at the same time very lascivious way… well, she wasn't proof against his looks either.

"Stop that!" She said, nervously running her fingers through her hair. "Get up, get dressed. Damned, I have a ship and a crew to take care of but I can't steer the Jewel through all these shallows and reefs offshore Jamaica when I know there's a naked and… um, quite handsome pirate lying in my bed, savvy."

"Only _quite_ handsome?" He raised a brow.

"Are ye fishing for compliments, Captain Sparrow?"

Rowan was about to shoo him out of bed when he got hold of her plaits. "Nah, fishing for a little kiss..."

Thus he kissed her; it was a sweat kiss full of emotions, searching for and giving reassurance. After a while Jack broke it, a teasing smile on his lips as his hand trailed down her spine and his fingers pinched her bottom. "Hey, ye've got a ship to take for," He reminded her cheekily yet his eyes were dark and thoughtful when they locked with hers; he lowered his voice. "Anyway, whatever ye do, don't do anything stupid, savvy?"

Though Rowan felt choked with emotions she ignored the swarm of butterflies having a party in her stomach and decided to play it down by tugging his beard instead. "Ah, don't worry. Ye won't get rid off me that easily."

No, there was no reason to worry, Jack was sure. Actually he almost felt sorry for Commodore James Norrington though they were definitely not friends at all. The one was a fine English gentleman, stiff to the bones, very conscious of his duties in serving the King of England, really despising all pirates- and the other one was a hated, infamous pirate captain with no duties but his own. Yet Norrington **had** given him a day's head start once, at a time when he wasn't manipulated and brainwashed by Ratbone. Anyway, after all's said and done the fine English gentleman was still in his blood, therefore he was rather predictable in a fight but Rowan wasn't. She was a real bitch when it came down to fighting, using more naughty tricks than he could ever think of and she truly had a very unique footwork. Norrington could never keep up with her- well, except in a fair fight following all rules of engagement- but who wants to fight fair when the thrill was not fighting fair?

Almost invisible the two dark pirate ships melted into the moonless night since Rowan had given order to extinguish all lanterns except one aboard the Jewel Star, and that order had also been signalled to the Black Pearl. Therefore they passed Port Royal unseen, sailing on an opportune current that would led them straight to their destined anchoring place, somewhere between Great Goat Island and the Hellshire Hills.

Rowan stood at the helm and tried to concentrate on steering her ship, but no matter how hard she tried, her thoughts kept wandering off down diverse paths. She thought about the things to come and Santiago's discouraging behaviour, hoping that he'd just been tired. What would happen if he couldn't conquer Anirvan alias Ratbone- would all be lost, then? She shuddered, refusing to believe so. _No, that can't be. I've stopped Nirrti once before even without Santiago's help and after all there's still Marris... but what **was** Marris' part in all that? Santiago has always regarded him as an unimportant appendage of mine and now he suddenly seems to play an important part in a game to which only the Spaniard knows the rules_- _or why could he suddenly hear Santiago's voice in his head as if being mentally connected? Well, he doesn't have a clue and blames it on the reindeer bones but I really wonder why these reindeer bones had never mattered before? What's Santiago up to?_

These were the things Rowan thought about but most of all she thought about Jack Sparrow. She'd often wondered whether it was more than just pure lust they shared, remembering how wantonly her body always reacted to his. Tonight had been different though- she'd never felt so utterly complete in anyone else's arms before, never so fully accepted even with all her rough edges. He made her feel wanted and desirable for just being herself, and he'd just proved that he also believed in her, trusted her. No arguments about her big-mouthed announcement that Norrington would be her issue, he'd only asked her not to do anything stupid. Thinking about that gave her new heart and she felt confident that they'd manage it, with or without Santiago. After all's said and done there was still Jack's knack to talk himself out of just every situation, somehow.

Meanwhile, Jack had gotten up and was about to stroll around Jewel when suddenly a paw came down upon his shoulder and he was turned around to face Rashid. Smiling broadly the Indian pressed a mug of tea into his hands.

"Good see ye, now make useful. Bring tea to young Turner whelp, aye. Me I have other things to do."

Being asked so nicely it was hard to reject his plea and Jack had wanted to look in on Will anyway. And there was no denying that Rashid was the absolute chief of the galley and of everything that concerns supplying the crew. No one was allowed to contradict his orders and he could be very domineering in defending his opinion. Therefore it would have been quite difficult even for Jack to talk himself out of that situation if he'd chosen to reject Rashid's order and probably he would have met his match. Fortunately he didn't know because otherwise he would have given it a try. So he just took the mug in his hands and replied to the Indians smile with a golden grin of his own before heading to the cabin where Will was accommodated.

The door was slightly ajar so Jack could hear that Will was obviously awake- apparently the whelp already felt well enough to argue with M'leh about why he had to stay in bed when Elisabeth was in danger. Jack pushed the door open and staggered in.

"'ello whelp, good to know ye're feeling better."

"Jack!" Will tried to sit up but cringed in pain.

"Young Master Turner thinks he's fine and wants to go 'n save his woman right now." M'leh complained while trying to keep his charge in bed.

"Ah, he tends to be a little rash sometimes." Jack sat down next to Will and handed him the mug. "Well, mate, why don't ye just drink yer tea and relax? There's nothing ye can do at the moment and besides, ye'd only scare yer bonnie lass the way ye look right now..."

"Relax? You've got a nerve! Elisabeth is in deadly danger, we must go and save her!" Will's hand trembled so violently with agitation that he almost spilled his tea.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Aye. But unless you can swim faster than the Jewel sails- very unlikely you manage more than 14 knots- ye can just as well stay in bed and recover, savvy?"

"Says the man who once tried to trade my life for a ship. Bah, you don't know anything about love, you don't care about people. You only care for yourself."

Jack was sure he didn't deserve that; that wasn't fair and most of all it was wrong. He wasn't that selfish, he just wasn't blindly trusting. He wasn't insensitive either but cautious, and cramming his feelings in the backmost corner of his mind didn't mean he had none- he only hid them well. Nevertheless he played it down now like he usually did, snapping. "And you don't know anything about ships, lad."

Perhaps that hadn't been the right answer to calm down an injured and deeply worried young man like Will Turner. He sat up with a start now and glared angrily at the pirate. "That's nothing to be proud of."

"Sshh. Lay down again." Jack pushed him back in the pillows. " There's no need to fret and waste yer strength."

"But I've got to save Elisabeth and since you're not willing to help me..."

"Never said that."

"Then let me go."

Jack sighed. "Boy, we've been through that before. Where d'ye wanna go? We're at sea. Ye can't swim faster than a ship sails let alone in the state yer in. Ye'd probably collapse before reaching the main deck so ye won't be much use anyway. Stay in bed, drink yer tea and don't even think about doing something incredibly stupid, savvy?"

Will shot him a wary look. "What about Elisabeth?"

"Hey, ye've forgotten one very important thing, mate." The pirate pointed his index finger at Will's chest and smirked. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Ah," the younger man grimaced in frustration, "how could I forget that."

"Well, ye've been badly wounded, maybe that's why. But don't worry, I've got everything under control so I'll bring yer bonnie lass back to ye."

"You swear?"

"Aye- ye have me word, mate."

"The word of a pirate…" Will didn't seem too impressed. Though he knew that deep in his pirate heart Jack was a good man, it was hard to trust him when it came down to his beloved wife. He sat up once more, clutching Jack's arm. "Once you've asked me how far I'd go to save Elisabeth and I've answered I'd die for her, do you remember?"

"Aye. But since ye haven't died for her then there's no reason to die for her now, savvy?"

Somehow this conversation was tiresome. Apparently Will was keen to prove his courage- which no one doubted- but he only proved he was being a stubborn fool. Perhaps he had had something to prove because by choosing him Elisabeth had married far beneath her rank and he wanted to compensate that by protecting her with his life even if it was needless to risk his life.

"You don't care about Elisabeth…" Will insists defiantly but luckily- at least for Jack- the tea began to show its effects on him. His lids felt heavy so that he could barely keep his eyes open. "…I have to save her…"

"You have to sleep now." Jack grinned, when he saw that the young man had actually fallen asleep. That was good. Will could be very demanding sometimes. He got up and glanced at M'leh. "Keep a sharp eye on him. Don't let him do anything heroic yet incredibly stupid."

Suddenly the rattle of the anchor-chain was to be heard therefore he didn't wait for M'leh's replied but just patted his shoulder briefly before rushing on deck.

Though Jack definitely loved being at sea, the endless horizon ahead, reaching a new shore also held great attractions to him A glow at eastern the horizon was already announcing a new day, painting the nearby coast with warm, golden colours, but a few fading stars were still in the sky. The air smelled of dry earth mixed with the salty taste of the sea and somewhere in the distance a rooster greeted the morning with his crow. Other birds joined in, singing, chirping or croaking, wings where spread to roam the sky, and from the Black Pearl Parrot answered them with a joyful, "Land ahoy! All hands on deck!"

Rowan had chosen their anchoring place well. The rocks of Great Goat Island hid the pirate ships from any unfriendly eyes out to sea, and the landward guns were run out as a precaution. She gave orders to double the watch, reminding her crew once again not to shout but remain silent, when Parrot croaked: "Yo ho! Silence is golden!"

"'n ye're dead soon if ye don't shut up." She hissed, looking around for something to throw at Parrot.

"Fancy poultry for breakfast, luv?" Jack teased her.

Before she could answer that he should have a better control of his crewmembers, Santiago appeared on deck. He looked much better today, refreshed and full of energy, and his complexion had lost the pale grey tone. Beckoning Jack and Rowan over to him he informed them about his plans.

"I thought about it and came to the conclusion that the chalice might be the key. If I manage to transform its evil powers and free all enslaved souls…"

"Wait, ye wanna go to Port Royal and nick the chalice from under the eyes of Ratbone and the whole Royal Navy?" Jack cut him short but it wasn't obvious whether he was impressed or appalled by Santiago's plan.

Santiago rolled his eyes. "Why do you never hear me out? I never said I'm gonna 'nick' the Chalice of Doom; I just want to transform its power so Anirvan can't raise an army of grey-clad marionettes against us."

"But ye don't wanna go there alone, d'ye?" Rowan interjected.

"Well, my dear girl, you surely have many qualities but dematerializing yourself is definitely none of them, therefore I will indeed go there on my own. It would be far too dangerous for you."

Though Rowan pulled a face she kept her thoughts to herself. She couldn't forget the exhausted impression Santiago gave yesterday and even if she didn't know a thing about magic she knew very well that he had been so worn out because of using magic.

Santiago stroked her cheek. "Don't worry. A short distance teleport across land is far less demanding than a long distance travel across the sea while focusing my mind on a target in motion."

"Good to know."

"Yep. And because you don't know anything about magic you had better stay aboard until I'm back. ¿Estamos?"

"Si." Rowan replied, but as soon as Santiago walked down the companionway to prepare for his mysterious way of travelling through time and space unseen, she gazed at Jack and their eyes locked, both having the same idea.

"Well, he didn't say we **have** to stay aboard, he just said we **better **stay aboard, aye?"

"Aye." Jack agreed and flashed her a broad, golden grin.

Rowan flung her arms around his neck. Nibbling at his ears she whispered. "Though I could think of many naughty ways to spent this day 'til Santiago returns from his 'mission' we could as well use the time to… um, let's say check the surroundings."

"Exactly what I have in mind, luv."

"How far is it to that cave?"

"'Bout a five mile walk through the hills." His smile faded a bit, especially when he mentioned that they had to walk there. Though he liked being ashore sometimes, he preferred to stumble from one tavern to the next then, having a drink or many more, enjoying the company of doxies… but taking a walk in the countryside had never been his favourite pastime.

"Hmm, what d'ye say? We check the surroundings of that cave and see if there's any chance to get Elisabeth out there so we might end up with two trump cards in our hands instead of only one- provided that Santiago's able to carry out his part, of course."

Jack opened his arms in one of his big gestures. "Ah, that's my woman."

-

Port Royal had once been called the wickedest city on earth; it had been a den of sin and vice, and a safe harbour for pirates- or, more accurately, Privateers. Recruited in Tortuga and vested with Letters of Marque they had become, sort of, Port Royal's Private Navy. Their ships had protected the harbour and it had been their military base for attacks on Spanish ships, and the King of England had been kindly disposed towards them. Now, a sign at Gallows Point read 'Pirates ye be warned' and the bones of three executed men made it unmistakably clear that things had changed.

Santiago snorted contemptuously- wasn't it ironic? The formerly welcome ally had fallen in disgrace because England wasn't at war with Spain anymore- at least not at the moment- and at once it was forgotten that Port Royal owed its prosperity to the pirates. The town wouldn't have boomed if the Privateers hadn't spent their share of the booty in the numerous taverns and brothels here, thus attracting many merchants or craftsmen to set up shops.

Yet most ironic was that one of the greatest villains of that time, the infamous Henry Morgan, had been knighted and appointed as Lieutenant Governor. He himself had signed many death warrants to solve Port Royal's pirate problem, and it was only after his death four years ago that the rapid advance of an ambitious officer called James Norrington had started. Santiago would have loved to see this strange couple working hand in hand, knowing that Norrington despised all pirates… But of course a pirate was only a pirate without the Letter of Marque, so no matter what dreadful things Morgan had done as a Privateer, he'd done it in the name of the Crown, therefore Norrington might have regarded him as a nobleman.

_Bah- being knighted can't cover up the fact that he was anything but noble. He was a cruel man and helping Jack to sign up with him on his Panama trip was_ _a horrible mistake. I wish I could turn back time…_

Today Port Royal lacked some of its earlier charm since rich plantation owners set the tone. All the freethinkers and artists that had come to Port Royal in the wake of the pirates, creating the town's very special atmosphere, had left. The shabbiest drinking holes had been closed, many whores were cast out of town or sold into slavery- a very lucrative trade nowadays. While whoring was considered immoral enslaving or working people to death was an honest form of commerce. Whoever felt guilty about that could go to one of the many churches and unburden his conscience. Now, Port Royal resembled any English harbour town where poor people were oppressed while the rich wore the latest fashion from London.

Santiago surely didn't mind the lack of taverns or brothels but he missed the creative and open-minded folks Port Royal was also famous for. But he wasn't here for fun. As soon as he sent his mind roaming the town he could sense the Chalice of Doom. Any magically unskilled soul wouldn't have noticed what he saw in his mind's eye. Whirling clouds of impenetrable blackness lingered above the town that had its source in a plain golden goblet. It was calling for souls but the call was still feeble yet, almost inaudible during the day. At night, especially in a moonless night like the one to come, it would call out louder and many would follow its call lured by the chalice like moths to a flame. Santiago was here to stop that, to transform the magical power of the Chalice and release all the enslaved souls

Covered in a cloak of invisibility he headed towards the mansion on the hill overlooking the harbour. Of course he could have teleported himself there but that would have been like shouting _Hello, I'm here_ to Anirvan since any magician could clearly sense the presence of another and the more that one used his magical skills the more he risked detection. Therefore a teleport right into the lion's den would have been far more conspicuous than just covering up with invisibility, which also demanded less energy.

No one noticed Santiago creeping through the house and the wing of the building he headed for wasn't very crowded anyway. Finally he reached the room where the Chalice was hidden. The door was locked- as he had expected- but he hadn't lived among swashbucklers and scallywags for nothing. Every street urchin knew how to pick a lock, and while fiddling around with his picklock he remembered little Jack Sparrow showing him how to use it.

_"No, no, no- it'll never work that way." Jack shouted impatiently, taking the picklock off my hands. "Ye have to feel it, see." The door snapped open and I felt like a clumsy old man. That boy could easily unlock almost every door and he seemed to be quite content that there was something **he** could teach **me. **Well, at least he'd enjoyed that much more than our Latin lessons- no need to fear for my well hidden and alleged safely locked magical books since he couldn't read them anyway… _

_Now get a grip on yourself. It's not the right time to dwell in memories, _he told himselfSantiago concentrated on the lock again and soon the door sprang open. It was almost too easy. Then he sensed that there was indeed a protection charm but only to alert Anirvan in case of any magical attempt to enter the room. Apparently he hadn't expected someone to simply pick the lock.

Santiago didn't need to search for long for the Chalice of Doom since he could hear its call clearly now; it came from a shabby looking cupboard. He opened it and saw- to put it in Jack's words- a simple golden wine mug. It really didn't look spectacular but he knew that there was much more to it than meets the eye. That plain goblet was a remarkable and very evil magical item. He reached for it, noticing at once its eager wish to enslave all souls that came close enough. Now he knew why Anirvan hadn't taken precautions to keep thieves away- the Chalice would have swallowed their souls as soon as they'd laid hands on it. But with Santiago it had no chance. He definitely had the stronger willpower and he was the one who preferred to set up the rules. Using his very own magical skills he forced the Chalice of Doom to literally spit out the souls it had enslaved.

The Chalice shrieked in protest, almost sounding like a wounded animal.

"Ah, shut up." Santiago cursed when suddenly someone tsked. He turned around, not surprised to see Anirvan watching him from an armchair. The magician was clad in the same charcoal-grey brocade coat Rowan had mentioned.

"Well, well the Spaniard. I'm quite pleased to meet you." Anirvan rose from the chair and came to greet Santiago, acting like a fine English nobleman who invited an old friend for tea. He also looked like a fine English nobleman- that might have helped him to win Norrington. His skin was pale, untouched by the Caribbean sun, and he wore the latest fashion from London except for his brocade coat. Though fabric, cut and colour were rather trendy, the embroidered symbols just looked ridiculous. Obviously he badly needed pointing out he was a magician.

"You appear to be denying your origins, Anirvan."

The magician winced scarcely noticeably- it had been a long time since someone called him by his real name- and he was caught totally unawares when Santiago took his outstretched hand. That hadn't been his intention. Actually he'd only wanted to demand the Chalice of Doom back.

Santiago knew that it was never wise to shake hands with another magician, nevertheless he did and it was very interesting. For an instant Anirvan had to reveal his real face, that of the handsome Indian lad he'd once been, but then the vision changed and he got a brief glimpse on what had become of the Indian lad… he saw blue skin and fangs.

"Don't push it too far, Spaniard." Anirvan hissed, not in the mood to pretend to be polite anymore. "Associating with pirates has definitely not improved your manners. Now, would you please be so kind and hand over the chalice **immediately**."

Santiago just shrugged, doing him that favour. Smirking he watched the other magician caress its golden form until he suddenly noticed that there was something wrong with it.

"What have you done?"

_Does he really expect me to answer that?_

"It's almost empty!"

_Aye, actually **that** was my intention…I only wish I could have freed all souls_…

"You bloody bastard have manipulated my chalice!"

"Now then! Where are your good manners?"

Anirvan snorted and shot the Spaniard a dangerous glance. "Your arrogance will wear off soon enough."

Somehow Santiago doubted that. It surprised him that Anirvan couldn't undo the transformation and break the spell he had cast upon the chalice. He seemed to be much stronger when they 'met' first, fighting a mental battle. Then it stuck him that that had been at night and Anirvan had once eaten a human brain to become a Rakshasa, a **night** demon, _Could it be that he lacked strength during the day?_ Santiago wondered.

"See!" Anirvan projected an illusion in the room showing Jack and Rowan walking around the Hellshire Hills. "My loyal servant Norrington is already on the way to kill them."

The problem with illusions was that you never knew whether they represented reality or something that might happen and sometimes it won't happen at all. _Well, it's very likely that Jack and Rowan have ignored my advice to stay aboard but that doesn't necessarily mean they're in deadly danger. Stupid kids- why do they never do what I tell them? _Slightly annoyed Santiago whisked the illusion away and Anirvan growled.

Growled? Santiago's eyes widened. Anirvan might lack strong magical powers at day but he definitely had very impressive fangs… now snapping at him. He jumped aside, trying to avoid four blue-skinned arms and hands with cut-throat razor claws. It was time for a retreat before ending up as demon lunch. He decided for the good old cat-and-mouse game, making Rakshasa chase him all across Jamaica and through various dimensions in the hope of playing with him until he tires- or gets hungrier- but at least it would distract him from Jack and Rowan.

-

The Hellshire Hills were a totally uninhabited peninsula southwest of Port Royal. There were white sand beaches and salt ponds but the upland region was made of rough limestone hills covered with dry forest, thorny scrub and cactus. The porous rocks were pitted with sinkholes in which you could easily break through into one of the many caves that terrain was undermined with. Some of the caves had been used for ceremonial purposes by the Tainos before the first Spaniards had come and wiped them out.

The sun was almost at its zenith, burning hot from a blue Caribbean sky, and the air was filled with the monotone cheep of cicadas, when Jack wished once more that they had gone by boat. The way seemed to be endless; for each hill they climbed a new one had appeared, doubling the estimated distance of five miles.

Of course he knew that they couldn't unobtrusively approach the cave by boat but damned- he was a pirate and creeping through the jungle was simply incongruous for a pirate. He let out a deep sigh.

"I wish we had horses." Rowan felt equally fed up with wandering the hills. She reached for her water bottle and took a swig before handing it to Jack

"Aye," he agreed. Lost in thoughts he drank; then he noticed what he was drinking and would have spat it out again if the water hadn't been more refreshing than a sip of rum. He also noticed what he had said and quickly corrected himself. "I mean no, no horses. They're really evil animals with nasty teeth and dangerous hooves. No pirate should have to deal with them, savvy?"

"Ah. So which part of a horse did ye happened to come into contact with?"

Jack grimaced. Though she had figured him out once more he just walked on. Rowan hurried to keep pace with him when he abruptly stopped again and she bumped right into him.

"What the hell…"

"Apparently there's a dragon blocking the way."

She looked over his shoulder and saw a big reptile that had been dozing in the sun, now gazing rather unfriendly at them. But no matter how you looked at it, that creature was definitely no dragon. She elbowed Jack's ribs.

"That's an iguana, stupid. Besides, dragons are seen as symbol of luck in Asia, ye should know that."

"Ah, ye're such a bloody smart ass sometimes, ye know?"

Rowan was about to give him a mocking reply when she suddenly saw what they'd failed to notice before. After hours of walking up and down the hills they had finally reached the other side of the cape. Below them the blue waters of a bay sparkled in the sunshine and if they looked further to the northeast they could also see Port Royal in the distance.

"The cave must be somewhere near." Jack stated and circled left to avoid the presumably sharp teeth of the iguana though the poor reptile was certainly more shocked to meet a swaying pirate with jingling pearls in his long dreadlocks. "There are many entrances hidden all about in this area…"

Rowan wondered whether she should inform him that iguanas were vegetarians, therefore wouldn't like the taste of salt- and rum-soaked pirate flesh anyway, when suddenly there was a rustle in the scrub and Jack disappeared before her eyes. She could hear him crashing down a hole in the ground- then silence. Now, the iguana had definitely enough of crazy humans and waddled off as fast as his stumpy legs could carry him.

Minding her steps Rowan walked closer to the hole, silently cursing Jack and worrying about him at the same time.

"'ello luv! Found an entry."

She rolled her eyes when she saw him looking up at her, brushing off his coat and adjusting his hat. With much more grace than he'd shown she began to descend but couldn't avoid kicking off some loose rubble.

"Be careful. The way down's a bit risky." Jack warned her.

"Now, which of us is a smart ass?" She hissed in a lowered voice. Despite teasing Jack she was very well aware of the fact that they were on hostile ground now, and he knew it too.

"Shh, we have to be very quiet now."

_And who's the one that came crashing down here, making lots of noise? _Rowan wanted to reply but he put a finger on her mouth, gently tracing along the shape of her lips. Smirking conspiringly he pointed his chin towards a tunnel that interconnected this cave with others.

Hand in hand they walked on. First, Rowan wished she had taken along a torch but after her eyes had got used to the dim twilight down here she noticed that it wasn't completely dark in the tunnel. The rocks were so deeply fissured that there were many smaller or bigger openings through which rays of light could fall in, therefore a torch probably would have only given them away. She was quite sure about that when she suddenly heard voices in the distance, drowned by the sound of waves crashing on rocks. Apparently they had almost reached the cave they'd been looking for.

Jack gestured Rowan to stay behind him while he cautiously slunk around the corner. He saw three grey clad members of Norrington's marionette army guarding a prison cell- and in that prison cell Elisabeth was held captive. Jack began to realize that Norrington must have planned this a long time ago- probably right after he got under Ratbone's influence- since a proper prison cell wasn't put up in a cave within a day. So Elisabeth had always been part of his evil plan. It was like Rowan had said therefore it had been very wise of her to send the Turners away from Port Royal. She had already sensed danger then, without even knowing how things would proceed, but she surely hadn't expected things to turn out that way. Looking at it from that point there was also another meaning to Captain Escobar's murder. Probably he had to die because Elisabeth was not, as assumed, aboard the Gavina and the Spaniard didn't want to give away where she was instead. But the only thing that really mattered now was the promise Jack had given to Will Turner. _I'll bring yer bonnie lass back to ye._

So, why waste time waiting for the opportune moment when the opportune moment had already come? After all, there were only three guards and they seemed to be distracted with discussing why they were here at all when no one would ever dare to thwart their master's evil plans anyway. Well, they'd forgotten a very important thing- he was Captain Jack Sparrow.

Jack had been a loner for too many years now; he wasn't used putting his cards on the table and sharing his plans with anyone had only led to a mutiny. Therefore he simply forgot Rowan's presence and was already on his way to rescue Elisabeth before she even noticed what he had in mind.

_Damned, he's either much too full of himself or daft,_ Rowan thought when she saw him creeping towards the prison cell. Best of all she would have liked to pull him back into the shadows by his dreadlocks but he was already too far away to grab him without giving up her cover. All she could do now was to watch him, ready to interfere when things went wrong- she didn't need to wait long for that.

"You! What are you doing here?" One of the guards had spotted Jack sneaking towards the prison cell and aimed his bayonet at him. Nevertheless Jack managed to crack a smile.

"Me?"

"This cave is off limits to civilians." Another guard barked, equally threatening Jack with his gun.

Rowan wondered whether she should help him now but decided to wait a little longer. Maybe Jack could talk himself out of that. It appeared to her that he still had the situation under control.

"Ah, I'm sorry. Didn't know that."

"What do we have to do now?" The taller guard asked his smaller and more corpulent companion. "Shall we shoot him?"

"I don't know…"

"Gentlemen, I'm sure we can solve that problem. See, I'm just an archaic... anarchist… archaeologist- that's the right word, I'm an **archaeologist**." - and." Jack was glad that Murtogg and Mullroy were under the influence of the Chalice therefore they didn't remember him and he could continue spinning a yarn. "I explore the caves of Jamaica for Taino artefacts. They were really skilled craftsmen, these Tainos." He rattled the iron bars of the prison cell. "See, solid as a rock."

"Well, actually Master has built that cell…"

"Don't tell him. We don't know if he's telling the truth."

"Do you think he's lying?"

Jack rolled his eyes. The influence of the Chalice had definitely not improved their cleverness.

"Just shoot him." The third guard interjected. "Master had given orders. We serve and obey."

"Master had said shoot all pirates but he's an archaeologist. At least that's what he said." Murtogg considered.

"Shoot him!"

It seemed to Rowan that the third guy was an obsequious devotee of Norrington while the fat and the stupid were just- daft. Anyway, she wasn't in the mood to wait until these three marionettes had decided whether to shoot Jack or not, so it was time for a little action.

Mullroy saw her creeping closer and shouted, "A woman!", like he'd never seen one before but then it was already too late for Norrington's hardcore fan to react. She kicked the gun out of his hands and the shot meant for Jack hit the roof.

"Sorry, gents, 't was nice chattin' with ye but…" Jack grabbed Murtogg and Mullroy by their collars, unceremoniously banging their heads together. "…now I've got other things to do."

While they sank to the ground he threw a quick glance at Rowan to see if she could handle her opponent- she did- then he headed for the keys of the prison. They hung on a hook on the left side of the cell as he'd already noticed.

"Don't worry Lizzie, we'll get ye outta here."

The young woman stared at him with big eyes, obviously overwhelmed to see him- or she was simply in a state of shock. When she finally managed to utter a word it was only the name of her beloved husband. "Will?"

"He's alright. He's in bed where he belongs and I'll bring ye back to him where you belong…" "I wouldn't be so sure about that!" A sharp and very cold sounding voice bellowed echoing through the cave, Norrington's voice.

Concentrated on fighting the guards in order to free Elisabeth, Jack and Rowan had neither heard the sound of approaching horses nor noticed Norrington plus at least twenty of his grey-clad servants entering the cave.

"Well, well, if that isn't the infamous Jack Sparrow." Norrington said cynically.

"Captain… it's **Captain **Jack Sparrow, savvy?"

"Ah, how could I forget that?" The Commodore faked a smile but even that died when he spotted Rowan.

Harassed she looked around, realizing quickly that they had no chance. Though she had learned a lot about martial arts during her years in Asia, she had also learned when it was time to give in. Nevertheless she didn't like it.

"You again! Has no one ever taught you that a decent woman ought to stay at home where she belongs, caring for her man?"

"But I **do** care for my man, that's why I'm here." Rowan dared to say when his fist suddenly hit her like the famous bolt from the blue and knocked her out.

"Clap him- no, clap **them** in irons." Norrington barked at his men before contemptuously looking from the unconscious woman to a very outraged pirate, an evil smile on his lips. "Well, since your whore is so keen in seeking trouble it would be a shame not to see her hanging next to you, **_Captain_** Jack Sparrow. You two have an appointment with the gallows accompanying the ceremonies of my promotion as **Admiral** of the whole Caribbean."

-

Being chased by an angry and very blood-thirsty Rakshasa, Santiago reached Blue Mountain Peak. From here he had a roundabout view across the whole island of Jamaica. He saw green wooded hills, white beaches and the blue of the sea melting with the sky at a distant horizon, but he saw more than that, more than meets the eye of the usual observer. The Spaniard could also see plantations and villages, the people who lived there, the Maroons who hid in the jungle, the birds in the trees. He saw the two pirate ships anchoring near Great Goat Island and sensed that Jack and Rowan weren't aboard. _Of course not. A vision is not always a lie but part of a truth that might come true though it wasn't obligatory,_ he told himself and sent his spirit roaming the Hellshire Hills until he found them. In his mind's eye he witnessed the events taking place in that cave; he saw Norrington approaching and wanted to shout, "Watch out!"- but they wouldn't hear him anyway. He felt helpless and at the same time very angry. _Why do they never listen to me? But no, they chose to ignore any advice like it is just a nuisance to them, and then they land themselves in a mess again. Now their defeat is Norrington's triumph and there's nothing I can do about it at the moment…Rakshasa's near…_

Santiago could smell the demon's foul breath before he heard him growl or saw his cut-throat razor claws flashing in the sunlight. Just in time he ducked, cursing himself for his failure to notice Anirvan's presence earlier because he was much too distracted thinking about Jack and Rowan. _Stupid kids. Ah, they shall stay in prison for a while, at least they can't do anything stupid there. I have no time for them now, Anirvan's claiming all my attention…_

Though he couldn't die he wasn't resistant to pain. A hot, throbbing wave of pain shot through his thigh where the sharp claws of the Rakshasa had cut his flesh. Santiago had to flee and seek shelter for a while; the wound would heal soon but dusk was closer to falling with every passing minute and he didn't know how strong Anirvan would really be at night. He sent out a loud mental call to the blonde tousle head.

Marris moved a little bit closer to Anamaria and put an arm around her shoulder. They got along so well today so he thought it was time for more proximity. She didn't seem to mind, instead her dark eyes almost encouraged him to become even bolder and her full lips just longed to get kissed by him. So he did. First he kissed her slightly but when she flung her arms around his neck the kiss became more passionate and it felt perfectly right to him until…

_**MARRIS!**_

He jerked away from Anamaria and almost fell out of the bed, cringing as if someone had punched him hard in the stomach, or- more accurately- shouted deafening in his brain. Unfortunately Marris wasn't skilled in answering Santiago _only_ on a mental level, therefore he hissed. "Ah, piss off, that's not the opportune moment."

Of course Anamaria misunderstood the whole situation and took it very personally since she could still remember clearly how Jack had pushed her aside not so long ago. She started to swear at Marris but even her worst curses seemed to make no impression on him. Now she was really infuriated.

_Listen to me, lad. Jack and Rowan have been caught by Norrington although I told them to stay aboard. You should have informed me about their plans** immediately**._

"I'm never gonna deceive Rowan…"

"Ye bloody son of a mangy bitch, how dare ye? Rowan- huh?"

Marris felt slightly overtaxed. Santiago shouted mentally at him while Ana did audibly, alas he couldn't understand what either of them said. He made an attempt to cover his ears when suddenly he got slapped hard across the face.

"I'm not gonna make a fool of me just because of **you**."

"Ouch!" he shrieked, not aware of what he'd done to deserve that.

_Stop whining _and _get a grip on yourself now. A little slap is hardly painful…_

For an instant Marris could feel Santiago's pain. Wincing he saw a nasty gash in the thigh but even in that short instant he could also see that the wound was healing rapidly; the edges began to close in a mysterious- magical- way. Well, if the Spaniard could take care of his own why was he bothering him? And why was Anamaria so infuriated? But most of all Marris wanted to know why everybody had to shout at him.

"**Shut up** now! All of you!"

Anamaria froze in her tracks. She'd been about to storm out off her own cabin but then she stopped and looked at Marris like he'd gone mad. Relieved because of the agreeable silence he managed to crack a weary smile at her.

"I'm sorry, dear. Santiago's voice is roaring in me head and I can't stop him from doing so. Please gimme a second to hear him out and then I'll explain ev'rything to ye, savvy?"

That sounded just too weird to be just a flimsy excuse so Anamaria nodded, arms folded across her chest. Meanwhile Marris tried to concentrate on what Santiago had to tell him, hoping that it was of importance and not only slagging off.

_Since I'm just playing tag with a Rakshasa I really appreciate that you're willing to share your precious time on my unimportant behalf. Am I allowed to speak now?_ Santiago 'asked' cynically- as if anything would have stopped him from over-flooding the Marris' mind with all the visions, emotions and information that were on his mind.

In the end the pirate was up-to-date. He could also sense that Santiago had withdrawn the link to his brain and sighed with relief.

"Dunno why the Spaniard's using me as his mouthpiece recently but I definitely don't like it." Marris shrugged, looking at Anamaria. He wished they could just continue where they'd stopped but unfortunately Santiago had given him a contrary task. "Well, apparently Santiago's chased by a demon and our captains are in Norrington's captivity, so that leaves us to do something about it, don't ye think so?"

"Ye're telling me that ye hear Santiago's voice in yer head and ye can talk to him though he's not there, right?"

"Aye."

"So you're either mad or a magician." She shot him a wary glance that could also be seen as a warning.

"Hmm, I'm definitely no magician though there had been a shaman in my mother's family once…" Marris fell silent before he could mention the reindeer bones again- since he'd already said that he wasn't a magician Ana might come to the conclusion that he was actually mad. Wasn't he? Lately he himself was wondering about that

Anamaria stared at him with narrowed eyes but then she sighed. Oddly enough she seemed to be convinced that he was telling the truth. "Well then, the supernatural might be in yer blood."

Marris grimaced and cursed the reindeer bones again. He could do without Santiago roaring in his head as a habit, especially **not** in moments of intimacy. Shooing the thought of Ana's full, soft lips away he informed her what Santiago had asked- ordered- him to do. He should gather a small group of approximately six pirates and head towards the cave where they were supposed to wait for the Spaniard.

_And no ill-considered solo runs this time_, Santiago had emphasized particularly.

-

Rowan came to her senses with a throbbing pain in the head. Instinctively she wanted to touch her head but she couldn't move her hands because they were chained behind her back. She moaned frustrated, remembering what had happened. It didn't improve her mood very much to see Jack's face only inches away of hers when she finally opened her eyes. He looked worried. _Now that's no surprise, after all he landed us in this mess. If only he'd bothered to talk to me but- nah, why should the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow share his great plans, _she thought cynically.

"Ye're awake!" Jack commented cheerfully, totally unimpressed by her narrowed eyes since she couldn't possibly be directing that fuming look at him.

"Thanks for noticing." Ungraciously she gazed at him, wishing that bloody headache would wear off. She shifted a bit to find a more comfortable position but that wasn't easy with chained hands. "Ah, ye really did such a brilliant job of giving us a nice little break."

"Well, I'm sure ye'd feel better if ye had shut up instead of trying yer best to infuriate the Commodore though I liked the part that ye do care for me."

"Shouldn't have said that."

"Why, is there something wrong between us, luv?"

"No. It's always been my secret desire to end up in a prison cell with you." Rowan rolled her eyes but that only caused her head to ache even more. Silently she cursed her head, Jack, her own stupidity, Commodore Norrington, and men in general. Since that didn't help much either she sighed. "Well then, let's try and see the positive aspect in our current situation; at least we can have a better eye on Elisabeth now. Er… where **is** Elisabeth by the way?"

With Jack squatting right in front of her, her visual field was slightly limited but when she made an effort to look all around him she had to see that they were alone in this cell.

"Being dressed for the ritual- though I'm not sure if _dressed_ is really the right word." While moving aside to give her a better look, Jack lost balance and landed on his butt. Yet that and his clumsy attempt to gain a more dignified position again- somehow he reminded Rowan of a beetle fallen on its back- was only half as hilarious as the sight she got then.

In the middle of the cave stood a dressing table. It was monstrous white thing, richly embellished with flourishes and a golden mirror. The stool in front of that dressing table was also white with an upholstered seat of pink velvet, and on that pink velvet sat Elisabeth. A devoted lady's maid worked on her hair with curling tongs- all under the sharp eyes of several grey clad servants and Norrington himself. Apparently the Commodore had become an expert in style since he criticised the maid now and then, showing her what **he** wanted Elisabeth to look like. Now that was the strangest part of all because he obviously wanted her to look like a mixture of whore and Indian princess. Rowan chuckled and agreed with Jack on the issue that _dressed_ was definitely not the right word to describe Elisabeth's state. Those tiny scraps of cloth were hardly meant to conceal more than just her breasts and private parts, no matter whether they were embroidered with golden threads and tiny mirrors, and no matter how much transparent gauze caressed her slender figure. Her get-up was simply meant to arouse the sexual fantasies of men who dream of a whore dressed up as an Indian princess, and even worse, the pale pink of her dress was surely not her colour at all, especially not with that make-up. Khol rimmed eyes looked good on Jack but not on her- or the dark crimson on her lips was just too much. Nevertheless she didn't protest. Actually, Elisabeth just sat spineless on that stool and let things happen as if she wasn't involved.

"What's wrong with her? I wouldn't let them tart me up like that, and Elisabeth is definitely a more decent woman than I am." Rowan wondered aloud.

"Aye. She's a fair lady using hairpins like decent women should."

Rowan looked at him like he'd gone totally nuts. "Um, have I missed something? Did ye get a knock on the head too?"

He grinned broadly and reached out one hand to put a finger on her lips. "Hush now. Ye've got such a vicious tongue, luv."

It occurred to Rowan that there was something wrong with that gesture and when she got it her eyes widened. His hands weren't chained anymore. Now she also understood his talking about hairpins- he must have used one of Elisabeth's hairpins as a picklock. She knew that that did work sometimes though she'd never found out how.

"Ye've gotta show me that trick one day." She whispered while Jack fiddled about with her chains.

"Shh- no foolish actions now. We better behave unobtrusively and wait for the opportune moment."

Rowan threw a glance at the scenery. Norrington just reprimanded the lady's maid once again, not satisfied with what she did to Elisabeth's hair. Obviously he didn't want a neatly curled hairstyle but a more dramatic one, and the young maid appeared to be slightly overtaxed in accomplishing his wishes since she'd never learned to do anything but neatly curled hairstyles. Also, it didn't really help to improve her self-confidence that at least a dozen grey glad soldiers watched her at work; her hands began to shake and Norrington began to shout at her, calling her nasty things no gentlemen should ever address to a woman no matter how low her rank was.

"What're ye up to?" Rowan used the general mess to ask Jack about his plan though she already knew that he had none but to wait for the opportune moment and then do something that was too typical Jack to understand his reasons. Probably that did work most of the time as the stories about him proved, nevertheless she hadn't become accustomed to his very own special ways yet. She had never been the one to sit back and take it easy; she needed action. Alas, she had to admit that they alone couldn't possibly eliminate a dozen devoted followers of Norrington.

Meanwhile, Norrington had lost patience with the lady's maid and ripped the curling tongs of her hand before he himself worked havoc on Elisabeth's hair, accompanied by the cheers of his men. And Elisabeth stoically let it happen.

"Dunno why he's making that much fuss when all he wants is to screw her." Jack commented shrugging. "They gave her a potion that's why Elisabeth appears to be a bit out of it. Perhaps it's better for her not to know what Norrington's up to." He paused and looked thoughtfully at Rowan. _No, I better don't ask her if she was dressed the same when **she** was supposed to be sacrificed to Nirrti… though it would be interesting to know. But it would also be like turning the knife in the wound and she'd probably kill me for that- understandably- because after all, it's still a very delicate topic for her. _

"Great, so we've got not only a dozen marionettes-soldiers plus Norrington to deal with but also a drugged Elisabeth. What's yer plan then? Wait for the opportune moment to give all of them a good beating- you take the six on the right and I take the six on the left- before we snatch Elisabeth and run?"

"Shh- not so loud. We wanna behave unobtrusively, remember?"

Rowan pulled a face. Jack noticed that she was slightly annoyed, restless, and definitely not in the mood to sit back and take it easy, therefore he quickly changed his plan. Perhaps it would make sense to get reinforcement by some of their fellow pirates though he knew as well that strength wasn't measured in numbers only.

"Now listen, luv, I've got an idea- let's say, a very **_special _**task for ye. D'ye think ye can manage to sneak past Norrington's men while they're still distracted, hurry to our ships, gather a couple of trustworthy sailors and then come back before the worst is gonna happen?"

She glared at him with narrowed eyes. _A very **special** task…_ well, well. Of course she believed herself capable of managing that but that was not the point. It was the way he had pronounced it that made her wonder whether that was only meant as an attempt to get rid of her so he could carry on with an as yet unmentioned plan. "What about you?" she asked warily.

"I'm gonna stay here, keep a sharp eye on Elisabeth, and try to prevent the worst happening- just in case, I mean." Jack put on his trademark grin. "Of course I'd rather come with ye, luv, but- alas, an empty cage is far more conspicuous than one with an infamous jailbird in so it would take them a while to notice that the prettiest bird has flown, savvy? Now gimme a kiss and tell me that this is a great plan."

Rowan leaned over to quickly brush his lips with hers but she didn't do him the favour of telling him that his plan was a great one. "Well, try not to do something stupid."

Jack just tsked. While he opened the door in next to no time, she let her eyes roam through the cave. Elisabeth looked like something had exploded on her head when Norrington was ready with her hair and then he topped his work by attaching a diadem with a long transparent veil. His devotees cheered; they clapped hands due to his brilliance and therefore proved their lack of good taste or the meaning of style. Nevertheless, they were distracted and that suited Rowan well. She slipped out of the cell and moved stealthily along the wall towards the main entrance of the cave. Still unnoticed she slunk around the corner.

The sun was already sinking when Rowan left the cave, and she felt a fresh breeze in her face. It smelled of the sea, of sun-touched earth and dry woods, and… of horses. Actually, there were more than a dozen horses tethered nearby.

She wondered whether it was wise to borrow a horse since the Hellshire Hills where hardly the perfect terrain to go riding- yet it was such a tempting idea. Also, the horses were unguarded… well, at least almost. There was one man supposed to be on guard but he was too busy with peeing to notice her. He had leaned his musket against a rock like an invitation for thievish hands and Rowan could definitely use a weapon even though a musket was not her favourite choice. She had just picked it up when he suddenly became aware of her and turned around, shocked. Immediately his hands were up in the air.

"Don't shoot me." He wailed.

"Ugh…" Rowan looked away, thinking about whether she should simply shoot him for molesting her with that sight. But she felt merciful today- and, to be honest, she didn't know exactly how to handle a musket- so she barked, "Hands down and pants up!"

"Aye, Sir… um, Mylady...?"

"Captain."

Obviously he was slightly overtaxed with that situation. Blushing he covered his private parts with his hands before he remembered that she wanted him to put up his pants but then he would have to take his hands away and that would be very embarrassing.

Rowan rolled her eyes and aimed the musket at him in order to make him hurry up. Meanwhile she had recognized him as one part of the fat-and-stupid-duo, him being the fat one, though both of them had been quite daft indeed. Nevertheless he might be useful as soon as he had his pants on.

"Ye're my hostage now." She informed him- just in case he hadn't got it yet- after he was properly dressed again. "I want you to show me a fast and secure way to cross the hills on horseback, savvy?"

"Aye, Madam!"

"Captain. It's Captain- not Madam or Mylady. Keep that in mind and I won't shoot ye."

Though Mullroy nodded obsequiously, he glanced at her kind of confused and suddenly it dawned on him that she was a pirate; she even reminded him of someone. That brought up a couple of questions. Could women become pirate captains? Well obviously they could or she was lying to him. But if she was telling the truth why could she ride a horse then? And, more important, could **he** ride a horse? And did that matter at all when she poked his belly with the barrel of the musket to make him move? He decided that it was better not to annoy her more than she was anyway and quickly climbed in the saddle- at least he thought himself being quick but Rowan could swear she had never seen anyone mount a horse that clumsily. Shaking her head she picked the best horse for herself and shooed away all others so that she couldn't be pursued by Norrington's men so easily.

_Master wouldn't like that_, Mullroy thought and then he wondered, _Master? I'm an honourable soldier of the Royal Navy, I serve the King of England…What am I doing here? Where's Murtogg? _There were so many memories floating through his head that it made him feel almost dizzy. but he could not remember anything clearly, except- and he was very proud of it- that there was indeed a way leading through a valley and past a salt marsh to the other side of the peninsula. He only didn't know how to get the horse in motion.

"Come on, we don't have all day!" Rowan got impatient and gave his horse a good smack on the flank and it lurched into a slow trot.

Mullroy clung to the mane, bouncing up and down in the saddle with the grace of a wet flour bag, nevertheless he shouted enthusiastically, "Follow me Ma'am Captain!"

-

Santiago was beginning to get tired of being an angry Rakshasa's favourite prey though he had voluntarily chosen to become one in order to distract Anirvan from Jack and Rowan. Till now, he had succeeded well- despite that small scratch he had incurred. What once had been a nasty gash in his thigh had already healed by now and he could focus his attention on more important things again. For example, on far too many souls that were still enslaved by the Chalice of Doom. He had to get back to that room in Port Royal and force it to spit out more souls, at best all of them. Anirvan would be a much easier challenge without his marionette-like allies…

Only an instant later he had materialized himself in the same room where the chase had started, holding the golden chalice in his hands once again. It was still pulsing with captured souls though there weren't that many as before, when he had first tried to set them free. Now he could almost distinguish each single one of them and he was really appalled to find out that Elisabeth had also become a victim of the Chalice. He concentrated on her soul but couldn't get hold of it, it literally slipped though his hands…

The Rakshasa laughed. It was a nasty sound, like a laughing hyena but with a growling undertone.

"Did you really think it would be that easy? You are much too full of yourself, Spaniard, and you seem to have underestimated my power. Your magic is like a tiny firefly compared to the blazing glory of mine. Better surrender or I'll tear out your heart and eat it raw."

One blue skinned paw knocked the chalice out of Santiago's hands, the second one caught it, while a third one shot forward to dug its sharp claws into his flesh but Santiago saw it coming and dodged quickly. He would never underestimate a demon with four arms. Nevertheless, if the Rakshasa did hunger for his heart he had to be faster. He was surely an impressive creature, standing twice as big as the average human, showing his fangs that dominated a grim blue face with reptile eyes like glowing charcoals; they were in fact all black with a hint of sparkling red. But he was also very bulky and that meant he definitely lacked speed.

Growling dangerously the Rakshasa hurled himself at the Spaniard, equally sick and tired of chasing him all across Jamaica and back, he was hungry and blood-thirsty.

Santiago drew his sword. If he could kill him now while he was all animal instinct and less a magician, exhausted from the hunt… Yet fighting a four-armed demon with his sword would be like tilting at a windmill- rather ineffective. He had to concentrate on a magical attack and he had to get that chalice back. Blocking sharp claws with his sword he hurried to bring the table between him and the Rakshasa though that didn't stop the demon going after him. Unceremoniously he shoved the table aside with one of his big paws; it went crashing against the wall and broke apart.

_Why is he still that strong when he should be tired by now?_, Santiago wondered and then he knew why. The sun was down. It was night and he was regaining his strength the darker it got. He had to do something, at once.

The Rakshasa came closer and the foul stench of his breath was- well, breathtaking. Was there any spell against stench? Unfortunately not, but there was one that made the demon froze to the spot so that Santiago could change position and attack him from behind. Though he'd never thought it fair to stab an opponent from behind the end justifies the means, and the evil wasn't allowed to win. But that damned beast was already stronger than he had expected him to be and apparently he'd been able to break the spell without much effort since he whirled around now, four hands with cut-throat razor claws aiming at his prey. The Spaniard raised his sword in defence, hoping to cut off at least one of those hands but instead he just gave the Rakshasa a free manicure. Nevertheless, he had dropped the Chalice of Doom.

It fell to the floor twisting and rattling as if some drunk had dropped it before passing out, actually looking just like any ordinary wine goblet as it lay there on the floor. _Jack would have never picked it in the first place if it hadn't called to be taken along,_ Santiago pondered and yet he was still very well aware of every movement the Rakshasa made, ducking just in time when his claws shot up for another attack.

"Shelter!" He demanded, and an invisible protection shield spared him the worst. He felt the claws scratching the air above his back but not his back itself as he crept closer to the Chalice and laid hands on it. Now it would be wise to leave the scene discreetly but he had not reckoned with the Rakshasa's highly motivated ambitions to keep him from exactly doing that. At once he sensed a strong, foreign magic that froze **him **to the spot. He couldn't move, let alone teleport himself to a safer place, and it got worse. None of his magical charms worked anymore, they seem to bounce off the Rakshasa as if he was suddenly immune of them. Santiago tried to crawl backwards when he saw the claw coming but this time he couldn't get away and his shelter had simply dissolved into nothing. Then he felt a sharp pain. The claws had torn open his chest and he knew that the gash was running from his collarbone to his stomach without even bothering to look at it; he just knew it. He was tired, very tired and weak since the blood was streaming out of him in fountains- at least that was what it felt like before he lost consciousness.

The Rakshasa laughed his hyena laugh but contained his thirst for blood as he transformed into a well-clad magician again. Humming he ran his fingers through his hair and took a look in the mirror, quite content with what he saw. Still humming a merry tone on his lips he picked up the Chalice, polished it with the sleeve of his brocade coat, and then unceremoniously stepped over the dying man on the floor without even batting an eye on him. After all, he had an appointment to keep and he was late. Nevertheless he had the nerve to collect a few more souls in his precious Chalice while making his way to the Hellshire Hills and a very special cave.

-

There were many people that considered Captain Jack Sparrow as a drunk and a fool; they said he was daft, eccentric, and a bit out of it most of the time. They'll never comprehend that sitting in bars, drinking rum, wasn't always meant to get drunk but an easy way to do a little eavesdropping- and it was amazing how often a well kept secret slipped off a sloppy tongue when the speaker misjudged an apparently drunken man dozing at the table nearby.

Some people called him an insufferable nuisance, a notorious scoundrel, the worst or the best pirate they'd ever seen- depending on the state of his affairs, whether he still held all the cards or had put them on the table already. But all of them would agree at once that Captain Jack Sparrow was a hard man to predict. So much was disguised by his unique style, the jingling beads in his hair, his dark, khol-rimmed eyes, his golden smile, the way he slurred and swayed. That was what most people saw since that was what **he** wanted them to see. They simply believed in the face he showed them without bothering to look further. Only a very few people had ever sensed that there was more about him than meets the eye but no one really knew the man behind the legends. He just didn't like to give away his reason and least of all his feelings, and he'd become much more cautious in guarding them nowadays. Mister Gibbs had once stated he's close as a vest and he was right with that. Rowan might have thought she'd figured him out because he'd let her take more than just a glimpse at his soul but she was still far away of knowing all about him. Even Santiago didn't although he was a magician. There was so much more about Captain Jack Sparrow no one but himself knew.

Also- in contrary to the general acceptance of people who judged him only by the way his hands danced in the air, constantly gesticulating, underlining his words- Jack was indeed a very patient man. Ten years he had waited for the opportune moment to get back his Black Pearl, and in all those years he had even managed to keep that single shot in his pistol that was meant for Barbossa only. Other men would have tried to rush things but he, he had just waited. He had been sitting in bars, his hat pulled half over his face, apparently dozing and yet picking up every little bit of information, every rumor about Barbossa and his crew of miscreants.

Same he did now, only that he was sitting behind bars this time. A fact that, however, didn't bother him much. From under the rim of his hat he scanned the cave with dark watchful eyes, taking in every stone in his surroundings. He also spent some time with bat-watching- clever little creatures they were, flapping through the darkness without ever knocking their heads. Then he watched the Commodore again and noticed that his attention was still fixed on Elisabeth. He also noticed that there seemed to be less of his grey-clad vassals around although he had seen none of them leaving. It was as if they had the dissolve into nothing. Now that was really interesting.

-

Marris looked over the rail of the Black Pearl to where his boat was supposed to be- only to notice that it wasn't there anymore. Well, he was quite sure that he had moored it securely when he got here to pay lovely Anamaria a visit.

Quickly he scanned the faces of the crew for hidden smiles, thinking they had played a trick on him, which wouldn't be surprising at all. Actually, good-natured practical jokes had been on the agenda while they had anchored in Tortuga, getting to know each other, drinking together… He had to lower his eyes in order to gaze at Marty since said pirate was definitely the shortest one he'd ever met. Standing only about 4 feet tall he was easily to overlook if he wouldn't be such a funny little man indeed. He was always the one to laugh the loudest when someone called him a midget or a dwarf and he really had a very peculiar sense of humour, which Marris liked a lot. Nevertheless, his expression gave no hint that he was the one responsible for a missing longboat.

They were ready to row ashore in one of the Pearl's longboats when Marris suddenly got aware that he was the only one of the Jewel's crew aboard. He wished that at least one of his fellows would be accompanying him since it felt really strange to rely on strangers only when it comes to rescue **his **Captain as well, and he was also very well aware of the fact that neither Gibbs nor Anamaria liked Rowan Scarlett at all

Nevertheless, he grabbed the oars and started rowing, glad to do something that kept him busy or else his thoughts would have driven him mad. Too much had happened recently, making him wonder, and he could still hear Ana asking him whether he was a magician. Well, though he'd answered that question with a definite 'no' and would even underline it if necessary, there was no doubt about it that something had been happening to him lately. It surely wasn't by accident that Santiago's voice rang in his head… and it couldn't possibly be by accident only that he saw one of the Jewel's longboats down at that beach they were heading to.

Marris frowned. Given that Marty really wasn't to blame for that- unlikely, unless he had rowed it ashore only to confuse him since the current wouldn't have carried it there- he came to the conclusion that somebody must have nicked it in order to steal himself away. So who would be daft enough to do exactly that? He could only think of one person…

-

Rowan reined in her horse, startled by a rustle in the undergrowth. Well, probably that was just an iguana… but no iguana would flung itself onto a rider in order to steal his horse. Mullroy yelled for help so she hurried to his rescue. She got hold of the horse thief's collar and was about to knock him out when she suddenly realized who he was. Though it was very tempting to knock him out nevertheless, she contained herself and gave that daft fool a good shaking instead.

"What the hell ye think ye're doing here?"

"Good Lord, he's the Governor's son-in-law!" Mullroy stated superfluously since she had already became aware of that fact.

Will Turner writhed under her firm grasp and gave her a defiant look. "I've got to save Elisabeth."

"Miss Elisabeth is in danger?"

"Shut up!" Rowan looked daggers at Mullroy before concentrating on Will again. If there had been a patch in his face that wasn't bruised, swollen or crusted with blood she would have loved to smack him but, as a rule, she was not going to smack a man who was hardly able to stay on his feet. "Listen lad you should be in bed, and **no**- don't tell me you've gotta save Elisabeth 'cause ye're simply not in the state to do so, savvy?"

Will opened his mouth to protest but then even he himself had to admit that she was right. Immediately he was slouching, feeling helpless.

"Ah, ye've come to yer senses? Great! So can I rely ye won't do anything rash that'll only mess up Jack's plan or do I have to tie ye up to that cactus over there?"

"Can't do that Ma'am Captain. It has nasty pricking spines!"

"Thanks for reminding me, daftie, though that is actually the reason I threatened to tie him up there." She growled without deigning to look at him. It was wiser to keep a sharp eye on Will since he still had a defiant look on his face. "So boy what are ye up to now? Will ye behave or do I have to get nasty?"

"Jack's got a plan?" He asked hesitantly, a glimmer of hope flashing up in his eyes.

"Yep." _Sure he's got a plan, Captain Jack Sparrow always has a plan he's just not willing to share it_- she thought cynically. Nevertheless she trusted him since a man who had managed to sack Nassau port without firing a single shot was to be trusted.

"And where is Jack?"

"Pardon me..."

"No!"

"... but you're not talking about Jack Sparrow, do you?"

If looks could kill Mullroy would be dead. Rowan was **extremely** pissed off by now and she felt the urgent desire to strangle both men because they kept her from getting reinforcement, and Jack was still in that cave with mad Norrington and his men.

"We're wasting precious time with stupid questions." She hissed impatiently, pointing her index finger at Will's chest. "I swear, if anything happens to Jack…"

"Jack? Elisabeth's the one in danger. I highly doubt you have to worry about Jack Sparrow." Will dared to say but according to the fuming look she shot him he better shouldn't have said that.

"Don't tell me whom I have to worry about, boy, or you can see to it yerself how to get to China and to find the monastery where yer father is."

"That's blackmail. You can't make me decide between my wife and my father."

Rowan rolled her eyes. Apparently he refused to understand a single word of what she was saying but since she doubted that he was as daft as Mullroy she blamed it on a fever attack or something like that. After all, the young man was anything but healthy looking. Also she could understand his worries about Elisabeth to a certain extent because they definitely weren't without reason- she just hoped he'd never find out what exactly Norrington had in mind with her. So to avoid that happening at all she should better ride on and fetch the needed reinforcement, hurry back to the cave and…

"Pirates!" Mullroy shouted suddenly.

Rowan turned around to get the most ridiculous sight since she had stumbled across that Royal Navy guy. He had drawn a cutlass and positioned himself between her and the approaching group of pirates in order to- do what? Protect her? An honourable soldier of the Royal Navy tried to protect her- a pirate captain- from her pirate fellows. That was hilarious! She gave him a slight smack on the back of the head and took the cutlass from his hands before he could hurt himself. Then she smiled at the pirates. Never before had she been so glad to see Mister Gibbs although he obviously didn't feel the same about her.

"Where's Jack?" he asked gruffly.

She wanted to answer but then Marris gave her a hug, and for a moment she couldn't even breathe. Of course Anamaria didn't like that at all, while Will tried to use the moment to sneak away. He didn't get far though. Rowan whirled around and got hold of his collar once again, jerking him back to the illustrious round of pirates where he would have collapsed if a man called Silvers hadn't caught him just in time.

Seeing that Will was being cared for, Rowan addressed Gibbs. "Alright mate, you don't like me, I don't give a damn about you- we're square. But let's end our hostilities for a moment and for Jack's sake. We've gotta stick together now."

The elder man looked at her with narrowed eyes and noticed that in spite of her casual tone she was really serious; he also noticed her worries. His glance softened a bit. "What about Jack?"

"What about setting off first and while we're on our way back to that cave I'll fill ye in with all ye need to know? Agreed?"

"Agreed."

-

When the pirates finally reached the cave the first they heard was the beating of drums and Rowan knew at once that the unholy ceremony had already started. She hurried further, suddenly blinded by the light of many torches and candles that were lit in the cave. Marris grabbed her waist and dragged her back in the shadows.

"Hush now. We're supposed to wait for Santiago. Besides, ye don't wanna rush things like our dear friend William, do ye?"

Silently she shook her head. No, she wouldn't be that foolish although she felt panic rising within her when she had to watch that scenario in front of her. The dressing table had been removed by now and was replaced by some sort of makeshift altar on which the Chalice of Doom stood. She could sense its hungry cry for souls but somehow she didn't feel invited to join them, neither did any of the pirates accompanying her.

Nevertheless, her heart was thumping and the scenario made her feel nervous since it reminded her of a ceremony she had had to witness; a ceremony in which she had been about to become a sacrifice for her Maliciousness, Nirrti.

The drums were beating faster now and her mind flipped back to another time, another place. She was at the crematorium ground again… _dressed in silk like I'd attend a wedding, my own wedding, but the wedding ceremony soon gets perverted by priests with black masks_… _I want_ _to run away, anywhere…_

"What exactly is Norrington up to do with Elisabeth?"

Will's worried voice jerked Rowan back into reality, to here and now. She gave him a puzzled look, wondering how to answer that question without scaring the wits out of him, so she simply said. "Ye don't wanna know that, believe me."

Unfortunately, Will wasn't so easily to fob off with that so he stubbornly tried to dig deeper. "Elisabeth is my wife. I've made a vow to protect her therefore I've got every right to know what that Norrington has in mind."

Rowan sighed. She was tempted to tell him but Marris reached for her hand and stopped her from doing so, also trying to calm down her increasing unrest. But the drums were beating faster than her heart now and she felt the urge to put an end to that perverted ceremony at once.

Ratbone, or Anirvan, or whatever he preferred to be called now, was clad in his charcoal grey brocade coat, looking every inch the mighty magician he was, as he led through the ceremony that would soon set Nirrti free. Rowan suddenly panicked, remembering how Nirrti had appeared to her in a blurred crimson vision once, smiling at her, content with her sacrifice, with Nirrti's chosen. _She wouldn't be satisfied with Elisabeth if she could have me instead,_ a voice within her cried alarmed.

Yet while she crept deeper in the shadows in order to remain unseen, Will did the contrary. Apparently he'd figured out by himself what Norrington was up to- well, almost, since he definitely lacked any perverted fantasies of what was really going to happen here. Nevertheless, what he'd recognized so far didn't suit him at all. This was kind of a warped wedding ceremony and he wouldn't let that happen, under no circumstances.

"Stop!" He yelled.

Anirvan did do him that favour only to look daggers at Will and the group of pirates that immediately gave him encouragement by gathering up straight behind him, therefore supporting him in his stupid action.

"Ah," the magician snarled. "so who of you miserable creatures is going to try and stop **me**? Look at yourselves. There's a man who can hardly stand on his own feet, two girls, a midget, an old man and a very unskilled would-be magician. Now, that's ridiculous- don't you agree? I could squash you like annoying insects and feed your hearts to her Evil Highness if I'd even feel like bothering with such unimportant little human souls that you are."

"Well, well, mate. But you've forgotten a very important thing…" A familiar was to be heard and all heads turned to take a look at the swashbuckling splendour of Captain Jack Sparrow who stood on a rock, overlooking the cave.

"I wonder what …"

"No, no, no- don't ask that, Master." Norrington interrupted though it was already too late for a warning, and he was still surprised that the damned pirate wasn't in his prison cell anymore.

"… that might be?"

"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy?" Jack put on his trademark smirk. For an instant Rowan could see that he held something in his hands- a statue.

"Pleased to meet you, but your reputation won't stop me from killing you." Anirvan growled unimpressed before tilting his head to his grey clad allies. "Shoot him!"

Rowan froze. She heard shots echoing through the cave and noticed a disastrous light ball flashing up in the magician's hand, aimed at Jack. He set it off before she could even think of anything that would hinder him. Suddenly she saw Jack stumbling backwards, swaying, loosing balance. Then he fell and disappeared from her sight. She screamed his name.

23


	18. 17 And the earth will tremble

17. And the earth will tremble

Looking back Santiago saw his own body lying on the floor, his chest torn open. There was only pain, cold, and incredible weariness. He wanted a rest, an eternal rest. He was so sick and tired of fighting, of life itself.

Suddenly there was a light in front of him, a bright, sparkling light. It seemed to be white, yet it was iridescent, reflecting all colours of the rainbow. The light lured him and he felt drawn by its shining magnificence as golden rays pulled him closer, wrapping him up in luminosity. He was bathing in that glorious light now, it flowed through him from head to toe, filling every pore of his self. The dreadful weariness dissolved as well as the coldness; this place knew no pain, no sound, no time. It was a serene place, holding the promise of tranquillity and peace for a worn out soul.

He knew where he was, he had been here before. And like then, his way was blocked before he could reach the source of the magnificent light. He let out a frustrated moan. _Oh_ _no, not again, please not again. I don't want to go back. I'm so tired. Two hundred years are such a long time without a rest, without a chance…_

_'Well, Senor_ _Santiago, it's not your time yet.'_

She looked exactly like he remembered her, actually her vision had haunted him every single day of his life ever since then. And not for the first time he saw her standing at the borders of the Realm of Infinity, arms folded across her chest, a look of disgust on her face. Akshaya, the indestructible. She tsked and repeated the curse like hammering those lines in his brain, never to be forgotten- as if he could ever forget.

_'Now go away, go back to where you belong.'_

_No. _He felt a defiant repulsion rising from deep within him. He couldn't be rejected again, but he also couldn't pass the translucent form of the gypsy woman. Then he sensed that they weren't alone here and he became aware of the presence of another soul. Gentle spirit fingers touched him in order to lead his attention to a window that had opened on the cave.

_'Hush'_, a calm mental voice soothed his mind, caressing him with kindness. _'I know you're tired but your time has really not come yet. Look- you can't leave them alone now, they rely on you. They** need **you.'_

Santiago took a look at the scene that had opened up before him, and winced. The pirates were not only outnumbered, they were absolutely inferior to the evil forces of Anirvan and without the slightest chance to win. Anirvan could kill them as easily as batting his eyelid. He saw Jack stumble and fall down an abyss, and he heard Rowan scream his name; he had to blink away a tear because of the terror in her voice, his heart cringed.

The gentle soul touched him again. Santiago turned to meet the kind gaze of an extraordinary handsome man with dark eyes; eyes that were wise, comforting and reassuring at the same time. He was sure that he'd never seen that man before but nevertheless he seemed to be familiar in an odd way. On a level where no words, no language was needed he instinctively recognized him, the magician from another time.

Khadim nodded and gave the Spaniard a warm-hearted smile. _'Don't despair, take courage my friend. Only you can change the course of events now._'

_But I've failed before- that's why I'm here._

_'No, you are here because **I** have failed. It had been within my powers to stop Anirvan at a time long gone by. But call me soft, too sentimental, too full of mercy regarding the one that once had been my friend for I was not able to kill him. Then, I thought I could eventually cure his black hear. So let me tell you a secret, give you a mighty weapon...'_

_'You're not going to help him,' the_ old gypsy woman spat, scowling.

_'Be kind, lovely Akshaya,' _Khadim replied in his calm, gentle tone. _'I'm not helping him to lift the curse, I just try and see to it that the Powers of Universe won't get off balance.'_

Then Khadim bent over and whispered a single word in the Spaniard's ear…

Santiago awoke with a sigh, a low moan. He was back in Port Royal. At once he noticed that his maltreated body had healed and his chest looked untouched by any demon's claw. Actually, he felt like a new person, revitalized and full of magic. Khadim had given him a weapon that was mightier than any sword.

-

"Ah, you've always been a fool, Jack." Anirvan chuckled with the arrogance of a man that thought he'd won, shrugging unceremoniously when he saw the pirate captain fall to his certain death. To him, Jack Sparrow had never been a serious challenge anyway, more like a nuisance- a harmless but nevertheless annoying nuisance he didn't lament being rid off. He could feel his powers increase by the shock and pain of the pirate's companions, wallowing in their sorrow. It was a good moment to catch them unawares, he thought and reached out for the Chalice of Doom. Clouds of impenetrable blackness began to whirl out of it, forming a paralysing void; it cried with hunger for souls. Anirvan caressed its golden form. No one could stop him now. The Spaniard was dead by now and the only opponent he had ever taken serious had died a long time ago. Like a magical Pied Piper he tried to lull the pirates with the sweet maddening tune of the Chalice…

The hair at the nape of his neck stood on end and Marris sensed the danger. The Chalice of Doom could have taken no effect on the pirates as long as it stood on that altar but when Anirvan held it in his hands, probably mumbling some sort of evil spell, things would change and not for the better. Therefore he reacted at once by doing what he was good at. He raised his pistol, aimed, and shot. The shot echoed through the cave but that didn't impress Anirvan since he couldn't be killed by a bullet anyway. Yet that had never been Marris' intention.

The Chalice dropped to the ground, spinning around with a cold, metallic clatter. Anirvan looked at his empty hands and let out a very aggravated growl. Marris felt a strong energy hitting against his chest, lifting him off his feet. He was flung through the cave before his back crashed against the irons bars of the prison cell where he sank to the floor. First, he was barely able to breathe; the force of the impact seemed to have pressed every bit of air out off his lunges and he feared he would faint. Well, that he hadn't intended either.

Meanwhile, Will tried desperately to get Elisabeth's attention but his wife didn't even blink an eye at his attempts. She just stayed seated on her stool. If she looked at anyone at all then it was Norrington, and the Commodore really enjoyed that. He loved to hear the blacksmith's frantic cries but far more he would love to do what his Master had promised him. He reached out his hand to touch Elisabeth's delicate cheekbone and she looked up at him with eyes that almost begged him to become bolder. His fingers danced down the curve of her neck, admiring the softness of her skin, then they trailed to her barely hidden breasts. They felt exactly like he dreamed they would…

"Continue with the ceremony." He hissed impatiently at Anirvan who'd picked up the Chalice by now and was looking for something.

The magician shot the horny Commodore a look of disgust. "Contain yourself, worm."

Of course Will hadn't followed that scene without any attempts to interfere, infuriated and desperate like one demented. But Silvers, who was in charge of him at the moment, didn't let him go and when things got worse, he unceremoniously knocked Will out with a well-aimed blow.

"Sorry lad, but it's better for ye."

At the same time Gibbs and Anamaria kept the grey-clad marionette soldiers at distance- soon to be joined by Silvers- while Marty scurried hither and thither to confuse them. They did well until they suddenly heard a loud and **very** fuming howl. Everyone froze in their tracks. Turning their heads they could see a huge, blue-skinned demon with four arms and cut-throat razor claws, gnashing its fangs. Reptile eyes like glowing charcoals scanned the cave, looking daggers at them and searching for the one who had been bold enough to nick his precious statue, the Statue of her Evil Highness Nirrti.

"Bring back that Sparrow! Bring me back my statue!"

Three grey glad devotees obeyed at once.

Rowan had screamed Jack's name when she saw him fall. In a state of shock her eyes had filled with tears, but only a single one had rolled down her cheek and then been wiped away defiantly as she came to her senses again, refusing to believe that Jack could be dead. Yet her defiance was more than just a refusal; it was like an inner voice told her not to believe in everything that seemed to be obviously… _think about it. See what could be hidden behind mere assumptions, assumptions that might have been provoked consciously… and don't think straight, try to think as twisted as Jack would. So, would **Captain Jack Sparrow** have shown up at the edge of an abyss with the Statue of Nirrti in his hands only to get himself shot?_ _No. Definitely not. Did he have a plan? Aye, though he never told me…but he sure had a plan, therefore he must have been faking it, that stumble and fall…Why?_

'_The lower caves have an access to the sea'_, she remembered Jack saying and was almost sure she'd figured him out when she heard a fuming howl. _Ah, Anirvan misses his little statue_- Anirvan? Like her fellows she froze to the spot, startled to see a demon instead. A Rakshasa, to be exact, a Vedan night-demon. She was as scared as she was also fascinated by that sight.

_Santiago, ye better come **quick**_ Marris begged silently, shaking off the dizziness his forceful contact with solid iron bars had caused him. Even if they could stand a little bit longer he knew that they were on lost cause; they could never match a demon without at least some magical assistance.

"Ye're alright?" Anamaria asked with a concerned face, helping him to get back on his feet.

He just nodded though nothing was alright. Only a miracle could save them now and it was very unlikely that that miracle would happen. Sighing heavily he met her eyes. "Just in case I can't tell ye tomorrow- I think I'm in love with ye. Ye should know that."

Before Anamaria could respond, a commanding voice bellowed through the cave.

"You're going too far, Anirvan. These pirates are no challenge for you so leave them alone. Try and compete with me."

The Rakshasa turned its head and gave a rather stupid impression; his eyes widened and his tongue popped out upon seeing the magician he believed to be dead. He gasped and growled. "That can't be. It's impossible. You should be dead- I've killed you!"

"Well, unfortunately I'm cursed so I can't die." Santiago replied succinctly while scanning the cave, gaining an overlook of the current situation. At the moment, everybody was staring at the two magicians as if time had come to a standstill.

"I'm sure I can change that annoying fact." The Rakshasa exhaled white flames of anger and eerie sparks flashed up at his claws, he shot them straight at the Spaniard. The sparks increased and became dangerous glowing fireballs…

_'Shelter!' _

…that bounced off Santiago's invisible protection shield, hitting rocks instead and blasting them. The walls of the cave trembled for an instant and the demon howled frustrated, his animalistic senses thirsted for blood. He was wild, almost uncontrollable now. Infuriated he rushed at Santiago, not only wanting to tear open his chest once again but this time he also wanted to eat his heart while it was still warm and pulsing.

Santiago was faster. He stepped aside, vanished and rematerialized at another spot of the cave, closer to Norrington, Elisabeth and the Chalice of Doom.

_'Chalice!'_ He demanded and the Chalice of Doom actually found its way to his hands.

Feeling duped, the Rakshasa transformed to his human form and became Anirvan again. He knew that he might not give such a fearsome impression now, but his magical abilities would increase without the animalistic senses of the demon running through his veins, without the bloodlust and hunger for human hearts.

"Let go off the Chalice, Spaniard!" Anirvan shouted, at once being aware of what he had in mind.

Santiago cocked his head and arched his eyebrows at him in a mocking way as if he wanted to say, _or what?_

Norrington, who wasn't very pleased with that disturbance of the ceremony, tried his best to attack the Spaniard only he didn't get far. His feet felt glued to the ground before he could even reach him. He cried for his master's help, frantically wanting the ceremony to continue. He wanted to have Elisabeth and wanted to become Admiral of the Caribbean.

Again these sparks flashed up- this time at well-manicured fingers instead of claws but the result would be the same. Santiago grabbed the Chalice tighter and set off to battle Anirvan somewhere outside the caves since they would probably reduce them to rubble in the progress.

Meanwhile everybody had recovered from shock and was able to react again. The pirates continued to fight the grey clad devotees, Will regained consciousness, Marris and Anamaria kissed before they plunged into the tumult. Rowan unsheathed her sword, smirking hazardously. Finally the scenario was exactly like she'd hoped for- if only Jack was here with her. But Jack wasn't there.

Elisabeth felt like her brain had been stuck in some sticky substance that had lulled her senses and her mind in a constant lullaby, but now she awoke. Had she been dreaming? There was a dizzy feeling in her head she had only experienced once before- then, that morning on a godforsaken island after drinking rum with Jack Sparrow. But she didn't remember drinking that vicious stuff ever again. There was a vague memory of a sweet liquor though and… shots ringing through the darkness of the night, a painful scream…

"WILL!" She cried, tears filling her eyes. Elisabeth tried to get up on her feet when suddenly a hand slapped her hard across the face and sent her back to the stool.

"NO! Forget about that bloody blacksmith- you're MINE now. Hear me?"

Her head was being jerked back by her hair and she had to stare at Commodore Norrington's face that was glowing with anger and lust. Then his lips crushed on hers, forcing a brutal kiss. She heard her beloved husband's voice scream in agony as he had to witness that scene- never ever she had felt so helpless, so vulnerable. Not even Barbossa and his crew of undead miscreants had dared to treat her that way.

The dreadful moment seemed to last forever but in fact only a few seconds had passed before Norrington was tugged away and a fist hit his face. Startled the Commodore looked at the red haired bitch who actually had the nerve to aim her sword at his throat.

"Lass, put that weapon away. You don't know how to handle it anyway." He said arrogantly. "Women shouldn't mess around with things that weren't made for them, they should be quiet and obedient and keep the beds of their men warm."

"Ah! D'ye really think so or are ye just scared of getting beaten by a woman? By the way, you just proved that ye don't know anything about women." Rowan said with a mocking yet calm voice.

"I know enough about women to know you can't beat me." Norrington drew his blade and made an attempt to disarm her with his first stroke but she seemed to have foreseen his reaction and dodged, scampering away from him. He rushed after her. "Ha! You're already scared!"

"Actually- no." Rowan stopped which surprised the Commodore so he almost bumped into her. Their blades locked. She leaned over, a smile curling up her lips. "I just wanted to make sure that Elisabeth is out of your reach."

His eyes widened when he glanced to where Elisabeth had been, noticing that one of the pirates had escorted her to the arms of her beloved husband. Their embrace was disgusting, full of emotions and tears. He snorted, eager to vent his rage on Rowan; she was to blame for that.

A determined series of beats and counter beats followed, they attacked, parried and riposted, each stroke driving them closer to the mouth of the cave. Then, Rowan realized with astonishment that the sun had already risen.

Captain Jack Sparrow fell in the water with a big splash and sank, but soon his head appeared above the surface again. Immediately he looked around. A broad golden smile formed on his face when he realized that he had landed exactly where he wanted to. _Good bats_. He had watched them swarming through that chimney so he had known that there was another way out and since he'd been here before, he had also known where that chimney would lead to. He was in the cave the rum runners had used as storage- actually there where still a few barrels on that spit of rocks over there, next to a tunnel that interconnected this cave with the big one above. A glimpse of light came from the opposite opening, giving view at the sea. There was a pale golden shimmer on top of the light waves indicating that a new day was dawning. _Well, wasn't that a tad too early?_

He was distracted by the noises in the cave above; he heard a fuming howl and then someone shouted, 'Bring back that Sparrow! Bring me back my statue!'

_Ah, so Anirvan has got it finally_, Jack thought amused while wondering why Anirvan didn't sound like Anirvan anymore. He came to the conclusion that the magician must have transformed to that Rakshasa demon and was a little bit disappointed he couldn't have a look at him now. _Might be interesting…_ but then again he could do very well without seeing demons, having seen undead skeletal pirates had actually been enough thrill for a lifetime.

Once again his thoughts got distracted by the course of events. Three faces appeared at the mouth of the chimney, looking down on him. One raised his musket and aimed at him, so it was better to submerge.

Jack counted three shots hitting the water surface, then he came up again. Of course he knew they wouldn't be content with just shooting at him since they wanted that statue back. More precisely, Anirvan Ratbone wanted that statue back and they were his obedient servants but that didn't change a thing; they would soon be there anyway .

Given that Jack didn't want to hand over the statue remorsefully apologizing for the trouble he had caused - he definitely didn't intend that- it would be better to hide the statue now and as quickly as possible. He could already see the flickering lights of torches approaching in the tunnel. Nevertheless he didn't like to rush things when there was a barrel of the finest rum in front of him so he took a good sip of that splendid golden liquor.

"You! Sparrow! Hands up! And hand over the Statue of Her Highness Nirrti immediately!" One of the blokes shouted but all three of them had aimed their muskets at Jack Sparrow who just shook his head in confusion.

"Gents, just think about it. How could I hand over a statue with my hands hold up and since my hands are held up high you can easily see that I hold no statue in my hands. So, how about a good sip of rum while we talk that over?"

Jack couldn't help but crack a smile when these three stupid fools reacted just the way he had expected them to do. Idiot one gave him a sharp look and slammed shut the lid of the rum barrel, idiot two still aimed his musket at him warily though he should have known that a weapon not reloaded could hardly be any threat, and the third one just barked. "Where's the statue? Where have you hidden it?"

The pirate looked around, then shrugged and turned to the one who had addressed him. "Well, I'm awfully sorry but I can't see any statue here. But, talking about missing things- have ye seen me hat? Must have lost it when I fell down here, ye know."

"You won't need a hat when Master questions you about his statue!"

"We're talking about torture." Another one interjected helpfully.

"Thanks so much for mentioning." Jack grimaced. His feet circled to the left but the third guy stopped him with his musket. He swayed and pretended to lose balance. Before the grey clad servants could react Captain Jack Sparrow had vanished in the sea. Hastily they loaded their muskets, ready to shoot him as soon as his head reappears on the surface. But time went by and he didn't show up again.

"He's drowned." One man assumed and his companions nodded. They gave up waiting for the pirate and started to search the cave for the statue of Nirrti instead.

Rowan had to blink, blinded by the bright sunlight. Had someone put forward the clock hands? She heard Norrington gasp with surprise and took in that it wasn't only her who considered this night to be shortest ever. But she couldn't linger on that thought since Norrington wasn't impressed enough to forget about their duel. Actually he seemed to be quite mad it was lasting so long at all; he probably had expected to beat her with a few strokes.

Norrington engaged but she parried and once again their blades locked.

"Give up, woman." He hissed, knowing that she couldn't match him in strength. "You've been lucky to get this far at all. If I weren't so good-natured you'd be long dead."

Rowan couldn't help but laugh. She kicked his shin and when he stumbled backwards she feinted a direct thrust at his head so he made a hasty retreat. He had clearly underestimated her- though he would never admit it.

Then she heard someone chuckle and a familiar slurring voice said. "I really do admire yer footwork, luv."

She whirled around to see Captain Jack Sparrow sitting casually on a rock, apparently sunbathing while watching her. Her heart leapt at the sight of him though she wasn't sure whether she'd rather kiss or slap him.

"And you look like a soggy rat, sweetheart." She replied given that he was in fact soaking wet. Nevertheless she was still very well aware what Norrington was doing. From the corner of her eye she saw him approaching and lifted her sword to keep him at distance.

"I've been taking a bath, my darling. I thought ye would appreciate…"

"Sparrow!" Norrington barked "Where. is. the. statue?"

"Don't have it." Jack held up his hands to prove that they were empty. Then he shrugged, smirking at the Commodore. "Well, I guess evil Nirrti is quite drunk by now."

Norrington wasn't amused but most of all he was confused and so was Rowan. Both gazed at Jack with bewilderment, then they looked at each other and came to the unspoken agreement that they could solve **that** mystery later- or at least one of them would. They began to circle again keeping a sharp eye on the opponent's slightest movement. But while his eyes flickered from her hands to her insidious legs and back she just watched his eyes. She was prepared for his direct cut to her flank and parried easily, surprising him with a counter thrust he simply hadn't expected.

Jack arched a brow. Though he knew Rowan could be an unpredictable hellcat in fencing she still managed to flabbergast him. That stroke was definitely not one Alf had taught them- that was some sort of 'new school' fencing she probably had learned in Asia. His eyes widened when she somersaulted backwards, landing safely on her feet to launch another attack at Norrington.

The commodore was a good fencer; he had the experience of years of practicing and his movements were elegant. Nevertheless his swordplay was unimaginative since the Royal Navy didn't encourage individuality. While he was strictly stuck to the rules of engagement Rowan had a bag of tricks. He was strong, she was speedy. But what distinguished them most were the reasons why they'd picked up a sword in the first place. Being the second son of a noble English family it had been expected of James Norrington to make a rapid rise in the King's Army, therefore he did. It was a matter of honour. To him a sword was just a weapon in order to maintain law and order in the name of the King whereas to Rowan it meant freedom, the freedom to be what she'd chosen to be. Knowing how to handle a sword was her way to stop people from trying to press her in a scheme of common rules that were only made to oppress women, the blade had cut off the bonds of society and set her free. Ever since Santiago had picked her up in the streets of Tortuga she had clearly recognized the chance he offered her so she'd become a very ambitious little girl who almost absorbed all the knowledge she could get. Knowledge is power and knowledge was usually not provided to girls.

While Jack still watched the sword fight, thinking about Rowan and gradually figuring her out, the other pirates emerged from the cave after having beaten their grey clad adversaries; they had killed a few but most of Anirvan's devotees were securely locked in the prison cell. Like Rowan and Norrington before they were equally surprised about the position of the sun but only Marris frowned with concern, wondering if that was really a good sign. The others were just reluctant that the night was over and to see their Captain safe and sound.

"Don't ye wanna help yer woman, Capt'n?" Silvers asked him

Jack glanced at him, a smile curling his lips. "Nah… only if she needs me help, mate. Besides I think she'd rather kill me if I'd dare to interfere now and I'm not in the mood for any suicidal activities this morning. Now, please stop rocking the rock I'm sitting" Abruptly he fell silent, startled by a noise like thunder as he noticed that the ground was actually trembling.

"Mary mother of God- what was that?" Mr Gibbs hissed and since he didn't know better he looked warily over to Rowan. "Everyone's thinking it but I'm just saying it. Witchcraft! There's something odd about the way that woman's handling her sword."

"Ye superstitious ol' fart mistake real skills for witchcraft since ye can hardly tell the blade from the hilt of a sword. That's been just an earthquake Josh'mee." Marty snickered amused until the elder pirate grabbed his collar.

"But I do know a lot 'bout cannons, dwarf. Remember me to"

Gibbs couldn't finish his threat because a second shock shook the earth, heavier than the first one, and things got out of control.

This night was to be **The Night, **the night of never-ending darkness and the beginning of a new realm, Nirrti's realm. He had been waiting for that for centuries while he was incarcerated somewhere high in the mountains of the Himalayas, deprived of his magical powers by Khadim's spell. But Khadim was long gone and in the course of the years the effects of his spell had gradually began to diminish; he had gotten aware of the world outside his prison of ice and snow again. Then the sweetest sound of all, the call of the Chalice of Doom had finally awoken him. It had found Itself a willing victim. One year it had taken him to set the stage for Nirrti's comeback, one year of enslaving souls to raise an army of ruthless soldiers with no will of their own. He growled frustrated- no, he was not going to take it that a third class magician tried to hinder him much less he would alter his plans. It had to be tonight! He would- **could**- not wait for next month's new moon.

But no matter how much Anirvan tried to manipulate time, stretching the hours in order to make this night last forever, Santiago managed to snatch time out of his hands again and again. Why did he appear so much stronger now? The evil magician put all on one stake and dared to challenge the eternal powers of the universe. Like an overstretched elastic band time snapped back on him, running backwards now. Instead of extending the night it got shorter; then the sun rose and the higher it climbed the weaker his magical powers got. Irritated he looked at Santiago who stood there with arms wide open as if hoping for divine support and yet the Spaniard had the nerve to grin at him; it was a sly, knowing grin.

Santiago spoke just one word and everything around him went up in a blaze. The Chalice of Doom splintered into thousands of fragments sending bright glowing spots of light high in the air- the liberated souls of the enslaved. Anirvan howled as eerie green flames lit up his body and he had to take in that he didn't even have the strength left to extinguish them. His magic was gone, taken away by a single word, a name, his true name… it should have been long forgotten. The realisation that he'd clearly underestimated the Spaniard came a bit too late since the flames were already burning his skin, fed on his flesh, his bones, until he was reduced to ashes. Then, the earth began to tremble.

The first shake caught Commodore Norrington totally unawares. The ground beneath his feet trembled heavily- or did his legs quiver that much? He was as dizzy as if he'd jumped faster out of bed than his circulation could have prepared for yet he definitely wasn't in his bedroom; he was… Pain! He felt a sharp pain on his left cheek and when he lifted one hand to touch his face, he noticed astounded that his fingers were wet with blood, his own blood. What had transpired? Where was he? Confused he gazed around and saw a red-haired pirate woman threatening him with her sword. But he wouldn't fight a woman- or would he? He wasn't so sure about it because, after all, his fingers were clenched tightly around the hilt of his own sword…

"Ye have enough, Commodore?" The pirate woman teased him.

Suddenly the scales fell off his eyes as **all **memories came floating back to his mind. He knew why he was here, he knew what he'd done and he knew what he had intended to do. The shame was enough to make him wish the ground would open up and swallow him- yet he hadn't expected that his wish would soon become true.

The next shake was heavier, it cut the ground from under his feet and he fell. Only a second later the red-haired pointed her sword at his throat like a deadly beautiful avenging angel. She was about to stab him and probably he had deserved that but a familiar voice stopped her.

"No! Wait! That's **Norrington**."

"Glad you've mentioned I wouldn't have noticed." She looked at Jack Sparrow as if he'd gone completely mad. "Just what d'ye think I've been doing here all the time?"

"I know what ye've been doing luv and I guess the Commodore will always remember this as the day he got beaten by a woman but there's no reason to kill him…"

"Come on Jack ye can't possibly let him get away with the things he'd done."

Norrington snickered almost hysterically at the thought that the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow of all people would actually care to spare his life. He was surprised. Instead of killing him the two pirates started a fierce debate.

"He was possessed by that Chalice."

"Ah and what makes ye think he isn't anymore?"

"Look at his eyes!"

The pirates bent over and looked at the Commodore but that didn't convince the infuriated woman.

"Probably he's just faking it. Besides, even if he isn't possessed anymore he still **is** a bloody Royal Navy's officer. Spare his life, turn yer back on him and soon ye'll be swinging at the gallows."

"Nah, I'm sure he'll grant us a day's head start won't ye Comm"

The word was cut off when the earth rumbled again. This third shock was the worst one; it was felt all over the island. The ground began to move heavily and deep fissures occurred in the limestone. With a crash like thunder parts of the cave collapsed. Jack heard Elisabeth scream but he couldn't have cared less since he had to take care of Rowan and himself first. The rocks they were standing on made some nasty crashing noises and he could already see a crack running straight towards them. He shoved Rowan forcefully aside, away from the cliffs and closer to what he thought would be more solid ground. They made it just in time. Looking back they saw with eyes wide open that a new shoreline had formed, the old one had simply crumbled down to the sea.

There was a weird silence in the aftermaths of the earthquake and Jack's voice sounded strange to himself when he addressed Rowan. "Are you alright."

She just nodded but that was all he needed to know before he threw a quick glance to see whether the members of his crew were still alive- they were- then he looked around for Norrington. He couldn't make him out so he carefully crawled to the edge of the abyss. There he was, clinging on a rock almost two feet below him. It was obvious that he wouldn't be able to keep hold much longer.

"Take me hand mate I'll pull ye up." Jack called to him but Norrington shook defiantly his head as if he wanted to fall to death. Apparently that was also what Will had in mind for the Commodore since he came rushing to Jack, shouting infuriated.

"Why don't you just let him drop? Have you forgotten what that bastard has done to us? He's threatened Elisabeth!"

Jack sighed enervated. He wasn't to argue his reasons with the whelp so he simply bellowed orders to Gibbs and Silvers to keep Will away from him. Once again he stretched out his hand towards Norrington.

"Come on, don't be such a fool. Ye won't be undoing anything if ye choose to die now, savvy? By the way, ye won't even get a proper sea burial 'cause the sea's gone." Jack frowned at that, wondering why the sea was gone, while Norrington gazed down seeing only rough, bare rocks. Suddenly he panicked and grabbed desperately Jack's hand. In his wild struggle to stay alive he would have dragged the pirate down with him if Rowan hadn't taken a hold of Jack's legs.

"Damned- who's the fool right now? I swear I'll kill ye should ye dare to fall to your death just because of Norrington."

Marris and Anamaria hurried over to help her keep a hold of Jack as well helping Jack to get Norrington back onto solid ground. After they had finally succeeded they lay breathlessly crouched together in a heap of tired limp bodies. Then, all of a sudden, Anamaria raised her head and stared in awe at a huge wave that rolled towards Port Royal almost swallowing the whole city. For a moment they couldn't see anything but water and it's whirling spray clouded the air. When that wore off they stared in utter horror at what was left of Port Royal. Even from that distance the effects of the earthquake and the tidal wave seemed to be disastrous, the complete western part of the town had disappeared.

"Father!" Elisabeth cried in utter shock. Will immediately forgot that he'd loved to kill Norrington with bare hands and hastened to comfort his beloved wife.

Jack got to his feet and squeezed Norrington's shoulder. The otherwise so stiff, self-controlled man was a nervous wreck now, silent tears were running down his cheeks, mingling with blood from the gash Rowan had given him. Jack felt almost sorry for him.

"There's no time for self-pity mate so get a grip on yerself. We've got a lot to do." He turned and barked orders at the other pirates. "Mister Gibbs, Anamaria! Take Will and Elisabeth back to the Pearl and set sails for Port Royal- or what's left of it- but don't enter harbour with my precious lady. Marty! You've got the perfect size to sneak in the cave. If there are any survivors in the prison, set them free. Mister Silvers and Marris- for you I've got a **very** special task. I need ye to get the rum barrels outta that lower cave. And…"

"Oh you're such a despicable pirate." Elisabeth interrupted with a shrill, hysteric voice. "How can you care about a few barrels of that vicious spirit after witnessing a tragic disaster that possibly have killed thousands of people in Port Royal?"

Jack looked to the sky and rolled his eyes. He chose to ignore the furious young lady and offered Rowan his arm.

"My love, do you fancy to take a little stroll with a despicable pirate and a whiny Commodore, walk to Port Royal, see what's happened there and give them a helping hand if required?"

"Aye, _sweetheart_." Rowan chirped as she graciously linked arms with him. That should have warned Jack but he just smiled self-satisfied and sketched a bow at his audience. Then he pranced away, stopped after a few steps as if he'd forgotten something very important and turned around.

"Ah, and if somebody sees me hat- I've lost it. Norrington! Move yer ass we don't have all day."

As soon as they were out of sight of Jack's crew Rowan let go of his arm, whirled around and slapped him hard. Then she confused him completely by grabbing his collar and kissing him even harder.

"Hey, what was that for?"

Rowan wondered briefly whether she should list **everything** but then she decided to cut it short. "Because ye're Captain Jack Sparrow."

Proud as a peacock he glanced at her. "Aye, but why did ye slap me?"

"That **was **the reason I slapped ye." She rolled her eyes and walked on until she reached the place where she had left Murtogg, the two horses and a pirate to guard them. The pirate, O'Reilly, didn't look like he had been extremely busy since the horses had calmed down after the earthquake was over and Murtogg lay flat on his back.

"Oh, did ye knock him off?"

"Nah- he spared me that and rather fainted like an old fat woman." O'Reilly responded and spat out with disgust.

Rowan looked to Jack. "Now isn't it good that we don't have to walk all the way to Port Royal?"

One horse bared its yellow teeth at Jack who immediately stepped back, grimacing. He knew that he would never get familiar with these nasty animals nevertheless he mounted one after a fiery debate about how to share out two horses between three people. Rowan's suggestion that Norrington should be tied to the stirrup and run wasn't as much a solution as letting him ride a horse on his own since she didn't trust him at all. In the end she got one horse while Norrington and Jack had to share the second, and all the time Commodore Norrington didn't utter a single world. He just stood there looking every inch a picture of misery, eaten away by guilt, shame and self-pity.

A few hours later they crossed the Liguanea Plain and approached Port Royal the extent of the catastrophe became more evident the closer they got. The graves at the cemetery had been opened up by the quake and while most of it had unceremoniously slid into the sea, some dead bodies and bones had been washed to the streets of the shattered town. The smell of decay was already in the air.

The parts of Port Royal that hadn't sunken to the sea looked horribly devastated. Buildings had collapsed like houses of carts, dead bodies covered the harbour and most ships were wrecked or tossed into the town. The Dauntless now 'anchored' at the remains of a church.

Rowan had expected a reverent silence only broken by the sound of mourning people but fact was that many opportunists had already taken the chance and started to loot whatever was left. They broke into homes and warehouses, robbed the dead, and a very clever owner of a bar offered cheap rum for twice the prize by calling it 'hell-wave brew'. A couple of whores roamed the streets claiming to be the only surviving prostitutes in Port Royal- only that there were too many of them to been taken serious. On the contrast to that a preacher man gave a flaming speech to those who cared, calling the disaster a sign of divine retribution. Some redcoats scurried hither and thither in a desperate attempt to maintain law and order but failed miserably due to the lack of any authoritarian commands.

"Seems ye've got a lot to do here." Jack said as he shoved Norrington out of the saddle. At once his horse started to prance and try to kick him off. While he still struggled to keep balance, a troop of soldiers led by Governor Swann walked by.

Immediately Rowan unsheathed her sword in the belief that Norrington would surely betray them now.

"Commodore! Heaven sent you! Where have you been?" The Governor shouted when he spotted Norrington, then he froze and frowned at the sight of two wanted pirates on horseback.

"I… I…" Norrington stuttered, not knowing what to say.

That was the opportune moment for Jack to slip off the saddle- his horse ran right away- and bow to Swann. "Pleased to meet ye again, dear Governor. I'm awfully sorry that I kept such a loyal officer of yers distracted but I really needed his help to track down an antagonist of the Crown who had far worse in mind than this horrible disaster could ever do."

The Governor nodded though he hadn't understood a word of what the pirate was saying. Imploringly he stared at Norrington who just stood there biting his lips, still not knowing what to say. He would have liked best to throw himself in the dust and eagerly admit all the crimes he had committed while he had been possessed by the Chalice of Doom, but he also realized that Captain Jack Sparrow of all people had offered him a chance to- well, not to **undo **the things he'd done but to learn from them. Rowan Scarlett already glared daggers at him so he better get a grip on himself now.

"I am at your disposal, Governor Swann. But if I may please grant these two pirates clemency because Captain Jack Sparrow has spoken the truth. He had indeed spared all of us a fate far worse than any earthquake could ever achieve."

**author's note**: I'd like to point out that I certainly did **not** get inspired by the horrible earthquake/ tsunami that happened in Asia lately. What I wrote in this chapter is a historical fact. On June 7th 1692 at about 20 to 12 an earthquake occurred, followed by a tidal wave that sunk 2/3 of the once 'wickedest city on earth'. For further information just check the net, research is fun.

Amelia Bones: Welcome to my obsession. I hope you stay around a bit longer since I have a sequel in mind.

By the way- I've never begged for reviews but I do really like them. So please feel free to drop a line or two.

Only one more chapter to come…


	19. 18 Keeper of the Cave

18- Keeper of the Cave

Rowan awoke with a start and sat up, her heart pounding fast. She rubbed her eyes, trying to force away that disturbing vision. No she wasn't as tough as she always pretended to be, and the things she'd seen during the last two days were revolting enough to cause nightmares. She reached for the jug of water on the bedside table only to find out that someone had replaced it with a bottle of rum. Nevertheless she took a good swig to wash the foul taste away. Then, opening her eyes completely she realized why there was no jug of water on her bedside table. She wasn't in her cabin but in Jack's aboard the Pearl. But where was Jack?

She lay down again, too tired to get up and look for him. Instead she passed the events of the last two days in review; two days in which the pirates had helped the population of Port Royal recovering their dead and burning them on stakes in order to prevent diseases. The stench of smoke and burned flesh was still in her nose, and in her mind's eye she could still see the dead bodies they had dragged out of harbour. A drowned body was never a pleasant sight especially not after they'd been in the water for two days, exposed to the Caribbean sun and occasionally nibbled on by sharks. Rowan had never seen a troop of redcoats turning around and vomiting simultaneously. It would have been extremely funny if she hadn't had to join…

The bad taste was back in her mouth so she took a more generous swig of rum before cuddling up in bed again. Her thoughts drifted off. The scent of Jack still lingered in the air and the black silk of the sheets caressed her body which longed to be touched. And since she was having an affair with Jack there was no reason to do so on her own. So where was that bloody rascal when she needed him?

It was then that she suddenly noticed the movements of the ship, its soft rocking in the waves, the quiet creaking of the wooden planks. If she listened carefully she even seemed to hear the sails rattling in the wind therefore they must be sailing. But where and why hadn't he bothered to tell her? Kind of infuriated she jumped out of bed, thinking, _so he'd rather spends his time at the helm than with me? Blast it, we really didn't have that much privacy in these past few days or more accurately none at all._

Rowan peeked at the heap of filthy, blood-stained rags that once used to be her clothes, shivered with repulsion, and decided that she would definitely **not** wear them again. But since she also couldn't go on deck stark naked she'd better find one of Jack's shirts to wear instead.

Jack's eyes gleamed with joy when he saw her walking up the steps to the afterdeck. One reason was that she wore one of his shirts. It looked good on her since it barely reached her knees leaving her firm tanned legs uncovered, and the white fabric was almost transparent in the light of the lanterns. Smirking he grabbed her waist and pulled her in a tight embrace without letting go of the helm.

"'ello luv. Nice to see ye."

He pinned her to the wheel with his body, his hips pressed tightly against hers. His proximity made her shiver though the night was warm and his skin even warmer. It made her dizzy to inhale his scent, the scent of salt, rum and pure manliness. Then he kissed her. His lips tasted sweet and so was his kiss, tender and seductive.

Rowan's knees got weak. She wrapped her arms around his neck for support and he granted her that by taking firm hold of her backside. Jack kissed her more passionately now; his mouth was demanding like he'd been hungering for a long time and his tongue explored her thoroughly in a desperate need to taste every corner of her.

A frustrated moan escaped her lips when he finally broke the kiss. Jack gave her a cheeky smile, then he flipped open his compass and corrected the course a little.

"Where are we sailing to anyway?" Rowan took her eyes off the open collar of his shirt and withstood the urge to touch his tanned chest, to feel his warm flesh and solid muscles. Instead she turned and looked around, seeing nothing but wide open sea. Suddenly she felt cheated. What was Jack up to and where was her ship, her Jewel?

It didn't matter. He told her, his head rested on her shoulder, but she didn't listen since he had taken her hands and placed them on the wheel, securing them with his own. His words were like a warm breath in her ears that made her shudder with anticipation as he nibbled at her earlobe before his mouth trailed down her neck, kissing, sucking and biting the sensitive skin there.

Rowan gasped and clung to the wheel when his hands let go of her wrists only to cup her breasts, squeezing them; his calloused thumbs brushing her nipples. The thin fabric of the shirt was not hindering his touch but causing a tantalizing friction on her skin. Her mouth was slightly opened as her breath came heavier now, and she jerked back her head in utter bliss. She heard Jack chuckle, knowing that he loved what he did to her. He loved to see her writhe and whimper his name, and that was exactly what she needed now. After two days with dead bodies she needed to be touched to know that she was still alive, she needed to lose control.

One of Jack's hands skimmed down her hips and snaked underneath the seam of her shirt, working its way up her thigh. Rowan sucked in breath and tried to hold back a groan, well aware that some of the crew were hanging around on the foredeck. Suddenly she felt watched. She opened her eyes the same moment his finger slipped inside her. A wanton sound escaped her lips and for an instant she didn't give a damn if somebody was indeed watching them, she just wished Jack would continue with whatever he had in his wicked pirate mind. But when her gaze met Cotton's who stared open-mouthed at his captain's activities, she remembered that there was still some sense of shame left in her. Immediately she slapped Jack's hand away.

"Cotton's watching us."

"So what? Guess he won't tell anybody." Jack's voice sounded hoarse, full of lust and when Rowan turned around to face him he wasn't sure if he could contain himself much longer. Her erected nipples stood up visibly under the white shirt, her hair fell in unruly cascades around her shoulders and her face was glowing with passion. She breathed heavily, her mouth slightly opened like an invitation to kiss her again.

"Cabin." She panted, still extremely aroused. But no matter how much she wanted him she was not gonna let him screw her with his crew around.

His lips crushed on hers for a ravaging kiss while he pressed her tightly to his erection. The idea of having her at the helm was almost driving him mad and he begged her, purring into her ears. "Here. I'll make it quick."

"No!" Rowan struggled to break contact but it was rather the word 'quick' that really deterred her. She grabbed his twin beard, tugging it strictly. "In the cabin. And you'll better take your time, savvy."

Jack gave her a mischievous smile that increased the sensual tension between them one more time. Grasping her backside he called for Cotton and checked his compass again. "Mr Cotton! Take over the helm and keep the course. My lovely woman is in desperate need of my care for the rest of this night."

The old weathered sailor couldn't do else but nod and watch the pirate couple stumbling excited towards the captain's cabin, peppering kisses at each other.

-

Sometimes it scared Rowan what Jack could make her feel. It was unfathomable how he could turn a strong, independent woman- which she believed she was- into a heap of trembling, contracting, writhing limbs, whimpering his name and begging him to cease while on the other hand she didn't want him to stop. After a quick encounter on the table as soon as they had entered the cabin Jack had taken his time with her. He knew so damned well how to arouse her, how to drive her really wild with lust, and he took his pride in it. He loved to see her climaxing, that intense feeling when she completely lost control and just clung onto him, shuddering with passion. He loved the way she threw back her head then, her red wine hair flowing over her firm, slim body, her eyes closed, her mouth lightly opened, breathing his name- she was definitely the most sensual woman he'd ever seen.

In the aftermath they lay cuddled up into each other's arms, legs entwined, breathlessly, exhausted, sweaty, but deeply satisfied, satiated. Rowan rested her chin on Jack's chest, stroking him idly, lost in thoughts.

Jack felt vulnerable because of their intimacy. Every touch of her got under his skin, straight to his heart, and he knew that so much more than pure lust that united them. She was his perfect match. Slowly he let his fingers run through her hair, almost suffocating on the words he wanted to tell her.

"Rowan, I…"

"Ah, are ye finally trying to fill me in why we're in the middle of the sea and where we're heading to?" She interrupted teasingly and looked up to meet his eyes.

He sighed. Actually he had wanted to tell her something else but she'd spoiled the moment and now he was puzzled because he had already told her their destination. Nevertheless he repeated it given that she'd been kind of distracted when he had told her first.

"Isla de Muerta."

"Isla de Muerta?" Rowan echoed and propped herself up on one elbow to give him a questioning look with slightly narrowed eyes. "What are ye up to now?"

Jack was glad that she was in a fairly placid, content mood since otherwise it would have been much more difficult to explain. After all, Norrington was still like a red rag to a bull to Rowan- she had merely accepted that he'd spared his life but she hadn't been happy about it and when he'd almost blackmailed Will and Elisabeth not to give away the Commodore's dark secret or he would not help the whelp finding his father… well, she could be quite a hellcat sometimes. Anyhow, it had been Norrington's idea- or, not really an idea but more like a vague thought the Commodore had uttered on their ride from the Hellshire Hills to Port Royal. The usually so stiff officer had sobbed, guilt ridden, _'I wished that damned chalice had never left the dreaded Isla de Muerta, I wished that island would have remained unfound forever.'_

There was nothing Jack could do about the Chalice of Doom since no one had seen it after Alf had laid hands on it and disappeared; it was missing and so was Alf. According to Marris he was still alive, in fact the pirate had even seen him from the distance one night. He also claimed that the Chalice was destroyed yet no one knew for sure and Alf had never cared to return and give away any details.

But Jack had the Statue of Nirrti so he would return that to the Isla de Muerta and throw away his compass then. Though there was no reason to assume that the earthquake was caused by magic he was better safe than sorry. No one should be playing around with dangerous magical stuff anymore.

"Ye should have talked to me before." Rowan complained. She did understand his motives but she would have rather been asked to join instead of just taken along.

"Aye but ye've been so sound asleep when I've made up me mind this morning..."

"This morning?" Now she was mildly confused because she'd thought she had only slept a few hours. She had dropped to bed when it was night and awoken at night- but could it be that she'd actually slept through a whole day?

"Well, ye sleepyhead 've been sleeping the day away and I didn't wanna wake ye." He reached out to touch her, to cup her face in his calloused hands. Stroking her gently he said. "I swear ye looked like an angel to me."

She snorted amused. "Don't try to change subject by flattering me."

"Alright, a **fallen** angel then- but nevertheless very angelic."

"Jack!"

"Would ye've preferred to stay in Port Royal, luv?"

Rowan shook her head. No, she was exactly where she wanted to be but that wasn't the point. She was a pirate captain therefore she had a ship and a crew to take care of and she wasn't very happy at the thought that they were still in Port Royal. They were pirates and though Governor Swann had granted them clemency she wasn't sure about Norrington. He hated pirates in general. Well, he hadn't tried to trick them yet but she had witnessed him changing from a whining picture of misery into the straight, conscientious Commodore of the Royal Navy within minutes and then he had immediately taken vigorous action to re-establish law and order in Port Royal. He was unpredictable and she wished again that she would have killed him, that Jack would have let her kill him.

"The people of Port Royal needed Norrington to get things right." Jack said seriously without a trace of his usual slurring. "Now tell me, do you really think that Governor Swann would have been able to gain control of the situation right after the earthquake? Blast, he was almost wetting himself with panic."

She chuckled at the thought of Governor Swann, then she sighed. "Nevertheless I trust Norrington as far as I can spit a rambutan stone- which actually isn't very far."

"We can practice once we're in Asia…" He fell silent for a while, his eyes closed. Rowan noticed that he looked really tired and wondered when he'd slept last. Probably he had been turning over all different thoughts in his mind before he'd got up and ordered to set sails, steering his ship to the dreaded Isla de Muerta. She snuggled up closer to him but he was restless. Sitting up he rubbed his eyes.

"Sorry luv can't leave Cotton alone at the helm for too long. He doesn't know the bearings so I better…"

"Jack, you need to rest." She interjected, her voice soft with worried affection.

"I'm not tired."

"You look exhausted."

He gazed down at himself. "That's just a momentary state you could easily change. Don't question my potency."

"I would never dare to, honestly. I just think you need some sleep."

Jack sighed wearily. She was right. Actually he wished he could stay and fall asleep with Rowan in his arms but somebody had to steer the Pearl. Well, he had an able bodied crew- that wasn't the problem- but he had once given away the bearings of the Isla de Muerta and that had ended in a mutiny therefore trust wasn't something he thoughtlessly handled.

"Why don't ye let Gibbs take the helm? He's a superstitious pain in the ass to me but he's loyal." Rowan suggested.

Jack shook his head and fingered for his clothes which were spread all over the cabin floor. The problem with Gibbs was his superstition- that man would probably not take the compass even if he would decide to hand it to him. Frightful bad luck to have a compass that doesn't point north, Jack could almost hear Gibbs say.

"What about Anamaria?"

"She's busy with yer first mate. Preferred to stay with him."

Rowan gasped. "She doesn't wanna sign on the Jewel I hope. I don't wanna have her aboard my ship."

"Ye can stay with me then. I'll make ye my first mate." Jack said without thinking but when he saw that dangerous look on her face he quickly added. "Just kidding, luv, just kidding."

She gave him a wry smile, obviously not very amused. Alright, he also wouldn't think it funny when a pirate captain got offered to become a first mate and after all she was a pirate captain. A good one too. Good enough to entrust her with the Pearl? Unceremoniously he slipped his compass into her hands.

"Now, if ye'd please be so kind to take us to the Isla de Muerta? I'll take a nap meanwhile…"

Rowan stared at the compass in her hand, not knowing what to say. She cleared her throat but still couldn't seem to find the right words. Damned that was a gesture so close to a declaration of trust that she had to swallowed hard to get rid off that lump in her throat, all the time running her fingers above the smooth surface of that old worn compass. Then she lifted her eyes to glance at Jack again only to find out that he must have fallen right asleep as soon as his head had hit the pillows. _Well, well so you weren't being tired at all, no- not** Captain Jack Sparrow**!_

Rolling her eyes she covered him up with a blanket when she felt an overwhelming surge of emotion shooting through her whole body. His slack features looked so vulnerable and much younger than he actually was, almost boyish, a contented half smile curling up his lips as he cuddled himself in a pillow- her pillow. A flock of butterflies gathered in her stomach and spread their wings, fluttering heavily. Her heart was pounding like a drum.

_Damned! **Damned! DAMNED! **When did that start? Why did that start? I never wanted that to happen again, never wanted to fall in love again… it only causes trouble and pain, agony… and so much bliss…No, forget about the bliss, Rowan and get a grip on yourself. After all, you've got a ship to steer with a compass that doesn't point north- but we're not trying to find north anyway, aren't we? - and with a crew that's likely to ignore any kind of command given by me. Great! Thanks a lot, Jack!_

She shook her head, trying to shake off her thoughts. At least she had to prove Jack that he didn't put his trust in her for nothing- she **would **get them to the dreaded Isla de Muerta.

"Alright I'll take over now, Captain's order." Rowan simply stated when she approached Cotton at the helm. To her surprise he let go of the wheel immediately and made a gesture of invitation, a weird smile on his lips as he eyed her from head to toe without even trying to disguise his stare. Somehow she was glad about him being a mute since a lewd remark was not what she needed now but nevertheless she felt the blood rushing to her cheeks, remembering what he'd caught her at last time she was at the helm. Involuntarily she blushed.

"What? Do I look like I've had a good time with yer Capt'n? I had- thanks for askin'!" She snapped cynically.

There was a fluttering of wings in the air as Parrot landed on Cotton's shoulder, cocking his head.

"Good girls go to heaven… naught girls get everywhere." The feathered scoundrel squeaked.

Rowan blushed even more when Cotton smiled friendly at her and patted her hand, gesturing her to pay attention to the ship instead of an old, mute sailor with a cheeky macaw.

_Good idea_. Determined she took hold of the wheel, flipped open the compass and tried to figure out the way of the spinning needle that didn't point north. After a moment she got the method behind it so she corrected the course a tad until the bow of the ship and the compass were pointing in exactly the same direction. Cotton still watched her.

Some other pirates did too as soon as they'd noticed the change at the helm, and to say that their stare made her nervous was an understatement. It occurred to her they all were just waiting for her to make a mistake. Though she had had to prove herself in a man's world many times before her hands started to get sweaty. She felt the smooth wood of the large steering-wheel beneath her fingers, hoping to gain some self-assurance of that when she sensed something else… some_one_? A _presence_ greeted her with curiosity, even a bit of… _jealousy_? Rowan wasn't sure about it since that ebbed soon and then ceased, and only something vaguely familiar remained. It was a similar feeling to steering the Jewel- after all, it had been the same man who'd built both the Jewel Star and the Black Pearl. A magician, as she knew now, therefore it shouldn't surprise her that the ships he built were somehow…_alive._

"Now, let's show the guys what two pretty lasses like us are capable of." Rowan whispered to the Pearl, a challenging smile on her lips. It would have been quite embarrassing to bark orders at a crew that would be unlikely acquiesce to following said orders but apparently she had at least one friend aboard. Cotton might be a tongue less mute but that didn't necessarily mean he had no other senses left; he could still observe, make up his own mind. Also he was quite susceptible to a woman's pretty smile and he had a macaw speaking for him.

"All hands on deck! Brace the sails!" Parrot croaked and at once the pirates were bustling about, ready to brace the sails.

Rowan could have sworn to feel a- _chuckle?_- when the wind filled Pearl's sails to the full and though she didn't look like it but she almost flew across the waves. Again it came to her mind how much the Pearl resembled the Jewel, both reacted very similar and both held their promise of freedom when standing at the helm. Rowan began to relax and enjoyed steering the black vessel through the night until a new day dawned.

In the meantime the pirates had gotten used to her sight at the helm and some of them were even beginning to change their mind about her as they had to admit she was doing quite a good job up there. And it pleased Rowan tremendously to prove them that she was not just Captain Jack Sparrow's favorite screw.

However, Gibb's opinion didn't alter. Though his personally animosities towards her had ceased it was still frightful bad luck having a woman aboard, a red head doubled that- but a red haired woman who could handle a compass that doesn't point north was tripling bad luck many times over. He hadn't decided yet whether he should try to get drunk from the contents of his flask he always carried around, cross himself, or make the sign against the evil eye, so he did all three. And when a new day dawned painting the sky in uncanny crimson he increased his efforts. After all, they were heading to the dreaded Isla de Muerta.

A few hours after sunrise Captain Jack Sparrow appeared on deck, looking well rested and ready for mischief. He held a mug with a steaming liquid in his hands, balancing it carefully when he staggered up the steps to the afterdeck. Approaching Rowan from behind he first pinched her bottom then rested his chin on her shoulder, one arm around her waist while the other held the mug to her nose so that she could have a sniff.

"So, did my precious ladies get on well with each other?" He purred into her ear.

Rowan's eyes widened with surprise when she sensed a familiar smell. Greedily she fingered for the mug but Jack preferred to tease her a bit by holding it out of her reach.

"Ah, seems you're testing my Pearl's limits, huh?"

"She almost begged me to let her run." She replied, still trying to get hold of the mug. "Gosh, Jack tell me that I smell tea in there."

"Aye." Finally he handed her the mug and watched fascinated how easy it was to please her. Her eyes gleamed with joy from across the brim as she slowly sipped the tea. He grinned, glad to have remembered how much she loved a cup of tea in the morning. Of course he wouldn't tell her how long it had taken him to find some tea in the Pearl's galley since that had never been a popular drink aboard, but by the look on her face he swore to himself that he would have to pay more attention on the tea trade. He sketched a bow to her in his typical, slightly exaggerated way. "I am pleased to please you, my dear."

Before Rowan could give a cheeky response the watch in the crow's nest reported 'land ahoy'. She went to the larboard rail to have a better look and saw a clearly visible volcanic island although there hadn't been any sign of a shoreline only minutes ago. It seemed to have popped up out of nowhere.

"So we're almost there." Jack murmured and took over the helm.

Rowan noticed his change of mood. He looked tense as he steered the Pearl through the passage in the graveyard of sunken ships, and the atmosphere was as eerie as the first time. Before long the rattle of the anchor chain broke the uncomfortable silence. Then a longboat was lowered.

The opening in the rocks of Isla de Muerta looked even more like the jaws of hell to Rowan when they entered the caves but perhaps it was only because she had the feeling that damned statue of Nirrti kept staring at her. A shiver ran down her spine and she had to tell herself not to flinch at the stare of a wooden statue.

"Ye know ye don't have to come with me?" Jack asked again like he had asked her when she had joined him in the longboat. Though he was glad for her company he would have rowed her back as soon as she'd request but she tsked.

"What harm is there in bringing that bloody thing back to where nobody will hopefully find it again?"

A long time none of them spoke a word and the only sound was that of Jack's even strokes. Rowan tried to relax by watching him row. He wore no coat and his shirt was open to reveal firm muscles running beneath tanned skin. She loved that sight. He wasn't a very athletic man, neither extremely muscular nor broad-shouldered but he had a slender body toughened by years of hard work aboard a ship.

"D'ye like what ye see luv?"

She blushed a little, not having noticed that she had obviously stared at him for quite a while. Denying it would be stupid so she nodded. "Aye."

"Wait 'til we're back on the Pearl." Jack's lips brushed hers then he pulled the boat ashore, not bothering about the amount of gold that slipped into the water by doing so. After all there was more treasure than silver and gold…

His plan was simple, so very simple. _Return the statue to the cave, drop the compass, and be off._ Actually Jack could have just thrown the statue onto any heap of treasure that was piled in here, there wasn't even the need to leave the boat. But he did. He didn't know why he was walking the caves again for a last time. Maybe it was a perverted urge to suffocate on memories. Everything had started with the knowledge of the treasure of Isla de Muerta but instead of getting rich it had only got him a mutiny and the loss of his ship. Ten years later it had also ended here, with one shot. Now the mutineer's bones were rotting here, his head kicked off into the sea by a fiery red haired who had even more reasons than him to hate Barbossa. Maybe both of them wanted to see with their own eyes that he was really dead and would never come haunting them again. Both of them breathed a barely audible sigh of relief when they saw that he was still there the way they had left him, decapitated.

That would have been the opportune moment to drop statue and compass, and leave. But they didn't. Jack wanted to do it right so he headed towards that niche in the rocks where they'd found the statue in order to put it back there.

"Stay there and don't do anything stupid." He told the statue before he turned around but froze in half movement, beads in his hair jingling, a confused and thoughtful expression on his face. Then recognition lighted his look paused and his hand slipped into his pocket, pulling out the compass. He glanced at it for a last time and placed it on the altar with a shrug. "You stay here too."

_Altar? _The word flashed through his brain and it was only then he noticed that the niche really resembled an altar. _Interesting…_But even more interesting was the fact that he suddenly couldn't feel his feet anymore and when he looked down he saw that they were beginning to petrify.

"Luv, wait a second will ye? There's something strange happening here."

Rowan stopped and saw immediately what he was about. She hurried to drag him away from that spot but it was in vain. He was immovable, his feet looked like they were made of marble.

"Damned, what have ye done?" She cursed.

"It just happened, don't blame me." Jack cracked a smile though he'd already figured that this was probably no fun at all. The petrifaction crawled up his legs and he was beginning to feel cold. Suddenly he had an idea. It had started when he'd put his compass down so what would happen if he just take it back?

His legs started to tingle like they had been numb and the blood came rushing back now. Jack breathed a deep sigh of relief. The idea of becoming a marble statue was not pleasant though it would please him to see a marble statue of Captain Jack Sparrow one day, a monument…

"What are you waiting for? Let's go." Rowan grabbed his arm, forcing him to leave.

They didn't get far though. All of a sudden they heard a strange rumble followed by a cracking sound like thunder. Rowan thought that this might be another earthquake but she was wrong. The walls of the cave had started moving- or more precisely the openings to the side caves began to close as if someone was letting down massive stone trapdoors. And the faster the two pirates tried to get to their longboat the faster the doors came down. Soon it was obvious to Jack that the jaws of hell like opening leading to the outside would also be closing and they wouldn't make their way out of here in time, so he stopped and ran back to the niche. Rowan followed him cursing.

The moment Jack stood in front of that bizarre altar and placed down the compass the movement of the stone doors came to an abrupt halt. Alas, he began to petrify again then. Now that was really a dilemma- he could chose between being locked in that cave or being petrified. None of that was a preferable situation and the decision he had to take made him swallow hard.

"Well, apparently we'll get locked in when I take the compass so I suggest ye get out of here first while I try to sort out how to trick that bloody mechanism before I follow ye. What d'ye say?"

Rowan's eyes narrowed since she knew damned well that he tried to play it down; that situation was definitely not the one he could talk himself out.

"Come on I don't have all day. Once I'm a perfect statue I can't move my fingers to take the compass, savvy? So be off now." He urged her and she would have actually gone, convinced by his casual voice, if he hadn't added barely audible. "Please go. I love you, Rowan."

She froze in her tracks, knowing that she hadn't heard wrong. The lump in her throat was almost suffocating her as it dawned on her what he really had in mind. He was sending her away to do an idiotically heroic thing she'd never asked of him; it was selfless but daft.

"Ye're mad. D'ye really think I could just walk away and leave ye behind?"

Jack sighed, rolling his eyes. He picked up the compass to have more time for an unavoidable discussion she was about to force on him.

"Keep to the code, luv. Anyone who falls behind…"

"Damned! Forget the fucking code! You said you love me."

The stone trapdoors gave a crunching sound and started to close further, more slowly this time but nevertheless inevitable.

Now Jack felt truly miserable. So she'd heard it. She wasn't supposed to hear it; he just wanted to say it once in a lifetime, and really meaning it. Though it was true he wrapped the truth in a lie. "Luv, I'm a dishonest man. I wanted to make sure that me name won't be forgotten and that ye gonna spread the stories about the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy?"

He couldn't fool her. Perhaps he would have been even disappointed if she'd been so easy to fob off with lies. She slapped him hard across the face and that one he had really deserved. But then every bit of her composure broke down completely and she took refuge in his arms, helplessly hammering her fists at his chest.

"I can't… I won't let ye down, Jack."

He lifted her chin with two fingers in an attempt to have a serious word with her and persuade her to go before it was too late but when he saw the tears in her eyes it almost broke his heart. He didn't know how to deal with a crying woman and most of all he didn't know how to deal with the tears burning in his own eyes; he couldn't even remember if he'd ever cried at all. Damned, he was Captain Jack Sparrow, he would not go soft. Pirates don't cry. Nevertheless he couldn't help but feel slightly overtaxed with the situation. The more sensible part of him told him that he should send Rowan away. Now. But his egoistic self wanted to hold her tight forever, wipe the tears off her face and kiss her, petrified in marble for eternity. Mayhap in the centuries to come somebody would discover this cave and look in awe at the stunning marble statue of two pirates in an everlasting embrace, a handsome rascal and his weeping beauty. _No, no, no that's selfish_, he told himself, _she has to live and shine in her colours…_

"I can't make you pay for my follies, Rowan. Look, I got us into this so **I**'ve gotta pay for it. Please go before it's too late."

"But it's not** your** fault! You wanted to do **good**." She refused to let him go but clung to him in a stubborn gesture of defiance. Yet there was so much more in it than just defiance, her voice was trembling with emotions and despair. "I'm not leaving without you, Jack. Either we're leaving together or we're staying here together. I… I just can't let another love die and live on, not this time. I can't take it anymore. I've had that before- I had to kill the man I loved to save my own life and I'm **not** gonna do it again. I felt like I'm dying inside, my heart was shattered after that and it took me so fucking long to collect all the broken pieces… I never ever wanted to fall in love again. I've tried so hard to avoid it so many years in a row but then you came along and broke the boundaries of my intentions with that damned cocksure smile of yours. Ye're such a maddening boaster, much too full of yourself most of the time and too possessive the rest of the time."

"Are you trying to tell me that you love me?" Jack wondered aloud though he already knew the answer to that question. She loved him as muchas he loved her and everything could have been so easy if only they wouldn't have come to the dreaded Isla de Muerta again.

"I do." Rowan whispered, hugging him tightly. "And I'm not leaving you."

_I have to let her go, no matter how much I love her- or just because of my love for her. _Time was running and the gates to freedom were closing more and more with every passing minute. He wished he would be able to save her, to force her to go but he lacked the strength to break their embrace. Without him noticing his arms had long come around her waist, one hand comfortingly stroking up and down her spine. His head was buried in her red wine hair, his nose so very well aware of her scent. She smelled so good- could someone smell of sun? She did. She smelled of sunny days at sea promising new horizons, salty, exotic, with a slight hint of sandalwood. Jack inhaled her deeply and sighed into her hair.

"It would be insane not to leave, my love. You can only chose between being locked in and starving to death or being turned to marble. I wish there was another choice left but I'm afraid that there isn't any."

"I don't care. I'll stay with you."

"That's insanity! You're so beautifully insane Rowan- but you really shouldn't go and waste your life for me, the bloody scallywag that I am."

"But I'm not wasting it. Damned, I'm not that strong as you might think. I'm so sick and tired of having to be strong when I'm actually scared to death. I'm frightened but most of all I fear to lose you, now that I've found you. Just hold me tight and never let me go. I don't wanna end up all unfeeling and totally numb."

_Please change yer mind and go, luv. Leave me alone. My fate is not yours- should have never been._ But instead of saying that Jack gave in. She had made up her mind and there was nothing he could do anything about it; he couldn't fight his feelings any longer. So be it.

"Right from the start when we decided to become pirates we knew that we're living on borrowed time. So drop the compass now and kiss me as long as we still can." Rowan said silently

Jack's lips brushed hers for a last kiss, a kiss goodbye. Goodbye to life, to love… Finally he'd found his perfect match, the woman of his dreams he'd never dreamt of, and now it should end like that? But it was already too late to change a thing. They kissed and the petrifaction crawled up from their feet to their knees, all along their legs, slowly turning them into marble. They began to feel cold…

Of course they didn't notice the change in the atmosphere or the translucent glimmer of light that seemed to appear from out of nowhere. Suddenly a solid form materialized next to the pirate couple.

"My oh my what have you landed yourself in now you? Blast, you really shouldn't mess with magical powers, lad." Santiago said as he picked up the compass, thus stopping the progress that would soon turn the two pirates into a pretty marble statue.

"Alf?"

The Spaniard couldn't remember Jack Sparrow ever sounding so feeble, almost like a desperate little boy. The glimpse of hope flashing up in his dark chocolate brown eyes was heartbreaking and so was the single tear dangling on long black lashes. Santiago had to clear his throat.

"Well, I hope you appreciate my interference in your life this time."

"Alf! I really never wanted to get Rowan into trouble, believe me. So don't bother about me but convince her to leave…"

"No way- that pretty lass is much too stubborn once she has made up her mind so you've got to deal with that from now on. Besides, you've got to find the whelp a father before he becomes a father himself. So leave now, both of you. Hurry. I don't know for how long I can still keep the gates open since there is a very old, strong magic taking effects here. Go. NOW."

Santiago practically shoved the two pirates away in order to get them going. They stumbled off but after a few steps Jack turned around, wondering. "What'll become of ye, Alf?"

"I'll be fine, lad. Don't forget that I'm a mighty magician..." He watched Jack and Rowan leaving, reaching their longboat and rowing down the narrow channel to freedom. Then he released a breath and dropped the compass. He didn't fight the petrifaction. "…and I'm also a cursed man who's very, very tired."

Neither Jack nor Rowan heard Santiago's last words as they rowed hastily through the increasing darkness without looking back. They were still too shaken to think clearly, not even completely aware of their last minute rescue. Proceeding like in trance they only knew they had to get away from that frightening place as quick as possible while ice cold shivers were running down their spines every time the memory of getting petrified struck them.

The channel had become more narrow now than it was when they first came here and the walls seemed to be threatening close. Then there was distant rumble. Rocks crumbled down, blocking the passage as if the spirit of Isla de Muerta was not willing to let them go.

Jack took Rowan's hand in a tight grip and drew her along with him as he left the boat. They climbed over the rocks when they saw that the opening of the cave was only six inches away from the water surface.

"We can't get out!" Rowan screamed in despair but then Jack kissed her hard- somehow he had managed to get a grip on himself- and pointed to the light ahead that still shone in from underwater.

"We'll dive."

And diving they did. Cold water crashed above their heads, finally wakening all their senses again. With all their strength they tried to reach the distant light that promised safety and freedom.

Rowan could barely believe they had succeeded when her head broke through the waves. Blinded by bright sunshine she drew in a deep breath before looking for Jack, overwhelmed with joy that he had made it as well. Breathlessly they hugged each other, so relieved that they had both survived the horrors of Isla de Muerta.

Suddenly they heard someone call out. "Captains ahoy!"

They looked up and saw that two dark ships were now anchoring offshore this dreaded island. A longboat was approaching them with Gibbs Marris and Anamaria aboard, ready to fish them out of the sea.

"Guess we should be damned lucky." Jack whispered barely audible.

"Aye…" Rowan glanced at him and actually saw tears in his eyes but as soon as he noticed her noticing it he quickly blinked them away.

"It's just the wind and the salt- salt of the sea, ye know? Pirates don't cry, savvy."

He was so typically Jack again that Rowan couldn't stop her own tears streaming down her cheeks, weeping with happiness and sorrow all at the same time.

"Shh, everything's alright now. We're safe." Jack said, kissing away the tears from her eyes.

"You said you love me."

"I remember you saying something like that as well."

Rowan swallowed hard. "Sort of mentioned it, aye."

He hugged her even tighter. "And I've meant every word I said."

"Me too."

"Oh, that's good." His lips brushed hers and they kissed softly; the kiss tasted of salt but nevertheless it was very sweet to them. They didn't break either their kiss or their embrace until they heard a mocking voice.

"Now look at these two lovebirds. Scarcely escaped a disaster but all they've in mind is kissin'. Well then, d'ye wanna be fished outta the water or d'ye prefer to stay where ye are? Of course we don't wanna disturb ye."

Rowan snickered almost hysterically but nevertheless she reached out her hand in order to get pulled out of the water by Marris while Gibbs tried to heave Jack in the longboat. They tumbled down on the planks, soaking wet, but extremely happy to have escaped a calamity the others aboard couldn't even half guess. Yet there was still one thing left that made them feel really miserable.

"What about Alf?" Jack asked, sounding slightly desperate. His voice was filled with grief though he tried to hide it.

"He's just fine where he is now so don't mourn for him. He wouldn't like it. After all, it's what he has always longed for."

It took Jack and Rowan a while to get Marris' words but then they gasped almost simultaneously. "You mean he's dead?"

"Nah." The blonde tousle-head shrugged. "Dunno. I mean, I'd rather say he's redeemed… So-shall we set sails for Asia now? There's a young lad aboard the Jewel who desperately wants to find his father."

-

Somewhere, at another dimension, an old gypsy woman blinked her eyes, never imagining that this would ever happen. Her curse was broken.

_A child's blood shed_

_shall only be repaid_

_by unconditional love for another_

_then thou may be free._

"You have won, Akshaya. Let him enter now." A gentle voice told her and then Khadim spread out his arms to welcome the Spaniard with a warm-hearted embrace.

**Author's note: **I can't believe it! It's done!

I would like to thank all of my dear readers whether you've reviewed or not.

But most of all thanks and a big hug to

**Ellenar** Without you I wouldn't have gotten so far. Thanks for your beta reading and fixing all of my mistakes, great job! Thanks for being around. Hope we'll meet for Chicken Madras one day…

**Amelia Bones: **Wow, what a great review! I feel flattered, I really do. Hope you like the ending of my story as well. After all he told her…

Anyway, stats are a wonderful thing. I know that there are some who read my story but never review. So here's a threat: I will definitely write a sequel but it's up to you now whether I'll write it in English or in German…

You want a teaser? Here's the summary:

Unsere beiden Piraten segeln nach Asien, finden den Vater des Welpen, und treiben sich eine Weile glücklich und zufrieden in den asiatischen Gewässern rum. Bis eines Tages- auf dem Heimweg in die Karibik- etwas passiert, was Jack ziemlich umhaut. In Madras trifft er wieder auf Norrington, aber der hat sich ganz schön verändert. Statt Jack an den Galgen zu liefern hilft er im! Schließlich geht es gegen den üblen, berüchtigten Shardul, früher Maharadscha von Madras und jetzt gefürchteter Herrscher einer kleinen Insel bei Ceylon...

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